


Dodging All the Ghosts Out on the Road

by Bluehaven4220



Series: Tim and Abby: Across the Water [2]
Category: Homicide: Life on the Street, due South
Genre: F/M, Falling In Love, Home from Vacation, Meeting the Parents, Old cases
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-19
Updated: 2018-10-19
Packaged: 2019-08-04 04:39:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 23,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16339988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bluehaven4220/pseuds/Bluehaven4220
Summary: Just as Abby played tourist in Baltimore, it’s Tim Bayliss' turn to visit Chicago. But a ghost from the past comes visiting too; one Abby thought she’d never have to worry about again





	Dodging All the Ghosts Out on the Road

**Author's Note:**

> This story would not have been possible without ButterflyGhost. Thank you so much for the beta, hand holding, bouncing ideas, discussing timelines, and being such a wonderful friend. I cannot thank you enough.

There’s a charge in the air tonight as I scanned the Arrivals board for Abby’s flight. I knew she'd wanted to go off on vacation, and had chosen Baltimore. Baltimore's okay, from what I'd heard. I hadn’t seen much of it, aside from when I'd been out there for work. Even then, I'd only been out there for a long weekend and a conference. You don't get to see much outside of the hotel during those types of weekends.

Now that her vacation’s finished, Ben and I were waiting for her plane to land, and when she appeared, she didn’t look the same. She was fairly well rested, but there was also a look in her eyes that told me that she hadn’t just spent ten days playing tourist. If anything, she really didn’t look happy to be home.

She greeted Ben with a huge bear hug and a kiss before coming over to me.

“Hi sweetie,” I greeted her as she dropped her carry-on and hugged me just as tightly as she did her dad. “How was your trip?”

“It was so much fun!” She smiled, but her smile didn’t reach her eyes. “I have so many pictures and stories to show you.” Ben picked up her bag and walked over to us. “That reminds me, can we drop my film off to be developed before we get home?”

“Sure,” I nodded as we went over to baggage claim. That’s when I knew something was different. Not wrong, but different. Any other time she’d wanted to head home, sleep, and then unpack. Luckily there was a photo developing place not far from the apartment, and, after a fifteen minute detour, we were home.

Dief all but jumped on her as soon as she opened the door.

“Dief!” Abby even seemed half-hearted in greeting him. “I missed you!” Fur face is standing on his hind legs and licking her face. “Yes, I know. I was gone for a long time, I know…” she let go of him and Dief dropped to all fours. Almost immediately he started sniffing at her clothes. “What is it?”

Dief kept sniffing at her clothes, eventually sticking his nose into an improper place.

“Excuse me! No noses up my dress, thank you.” She pushed at him and took her bag into her room. Dief whuffled as she disappeared, looking at me and Ben in confusion.

“Yeah, I know, Dief,” I bent down and scratched him behind the ears. “She’s got it bad.”

“She’s got what bad, Ray?” Ben asked, startling me. It was the first time he’d spoken since he’d greeted Abby at the airport. He was preoccupied with the Scottish Ambassador’s visit that was coming up, I think he’d said. He got like this sometimes, nothing to worry about.

“Does Abby seem different to you?”

“How so?”

“She seems a bit… moony.”

“Moony, Ray?” Ben repeated, looking at me like I had three heads.

“Oh come on, you’re telling me you don’t recognize that look?”

“What look?” He took his boots off and lined them up on the shoe organizer just so.

“I know you’re not that dumb,” I shook my head and locked the apartment door behind him. “I think she’s in love.”

Ben’s face transformed into what I had come to recognize as his ‘Mountie mask’. The look that he put on when the Ice Queen had him playing statue outside the Consulate. “With whom, Ray? How could you possibly know that when she’s only been home for less than ten minutes?”

“I don’t know who yet, but someone real important.” I had an idea, thanks to my stupidly-timed phone call that one morning, but I wasn’t gonna say anything until I had more evidence. “You’re telling me you don’t know that look? That’s the same look I had the first time I saw you.”

Ben’s eyes went wide and all the colour drained from his face. “I refuse to speculate, Ray. We’ll know for sure once Abby chooses to tell us. If she chooses to tell us anything.”

Uh huh. And what colour was the sky in his world? Did it rain lemon drops and gumdrops as well?

Dief whuffled again and bumped his nose against my leg.

“Yeah, I know, Dief,” I scratched him behind the ears. I didn’t really, but saying something vague and reassuring, even to him, felt like the right thing to do. “Come on, Ben, let’s order a pizza and turn on the game. The Cubs are playing the Orioles tonight.”

“That sounds fine to me, Ray.” Ben sat down beside me on the couch as I reached for the phone.

ooOoo

I hadn’t actually made it to the laundromat before I’d left Baltimore. As such, I dropped my luggage on my bed, dug through it, and sorted it as quickly as I could. White laundry from colours, what could wait another day, what needed to be washed immediately… and the entire time I was doing this, I felt like I needed to call Tim and let him know that I’d gotten home safely. I had no idea why, it just seemed like the right thing to do.

But when I looked over at the clock on my nightstand, it was barely three in the afternoon, and he’d said that he’d need to go into the precinct for the rest of his shift. He’d signed out for a few hours personal time to drive me to the airport, but he’d also said that Gee (his lieutenant. I remembered that Meldrick had mentioned his name the day that I’d gone in to fill out the incident report), had told him that if he didn’t come back afterward, he’d nail Tim’s hide to his office door. There’s no way he’d be finished yet.

Oh for goodness sake, Abigail Caitriona Fraser, stop being such a ninny! I scolded myself. You just saw him a few hours ago! It’s not goodbye forever. You can pick up your pictures after work tomorrow and then stick them in an envelope with a letter addressed to him.

I heard a knock on my bedroom door as I finished sorting my laundry.

“Come in,” I answered.

Dad opened the door and stuck his head in. “Hi baby girl.”

“Hi Dad,” I smiled as I turned my bag upside down over my garbage can to be sure I’d gotten everything out. “I can smell pizza. Did you and Ray order in?”

“Pineapple, green pepper, bacon, and mushroom.” Dad smiled back. “There’s also some salad left over from the other night if you like. And he’s got the baseball game on the TV.”

“That sounds really good,” I nodded as I ran a hand through my bag to be sure. Oh! There was the bag with the souvenirs I’d picked up for them. “I’ll be right out. Give me a minute?”

He nodded back and closed the door. The thought of pizza for dinner was the best thing I’d heard all day.

Suddenly nervous, I smoothed my hand through my hair and took a deep breath, checking myself in the mirror. Good, the shirt I was wearing was actually covering the love bites. I could sit on the couch with them and they wouldn’t be able to tell. Plus, I liked baseball, it’d keep my mind occupied for a little while.

And I’d pick the bacon off.

ooOoo

I got home after my shift, and the air in the apartment was different. It was heavier, like there was something missing. Everything was in its place. There were no dishes left out to dry, no laundry falling out of the basket, the bed was made up…

I’d only just dropped Abby off at the airport this afternoon, and I was already acting like a lovesick puppy. As we’d said, it wasn’t goodbye forever. We’d find a way to make it work.

God, even my sheets still carried her scent. Even then, I was so tired I didn’t even bother to strip the bed. I simply laid back and closed my eyes.

I woke up the next morning exhausted and hungry, and still in my clothes from the day before. Shaking my head, I quickly undressed and got in the shower. Both Gee and Frank would notice something was up if I didn’t pull myself together…

I splashed water on my face, brushed my teeth, got dressed, and drove to the precinct. Gee was already there, as I thought he would be.

“Bayliss! My office!” he barked by way of greeting.

I sighed, dropped my suit jacket on the back of my chair, and did as he asked. I shut the door behind me.

“Sit down.”

Something in his voice told me I shouldn’t argue, though I couldn’t exactly see what he’d have cause to be upset with me about. So I did. Gee sat down and tented his fingers at me.

“Did she get home okay?”

I cock my eyebrow. Since when did Gee care about our personal lives? He’d made a point of telling us that he didn’t want to hear anything about our lives outside the precinct, with the exception of births, marriages, or death. And how did he know who Abby was to me?

Well, aren’t I just so smart lately? Lieutenant Al Giardello, like Lewis and Frank, was also a trained observer. Of course he’d notice if something was different.

“Yeah,” I nodded. “She got on the plane yesterday. Back home.”

“So I’m going to assume that she’s not going to be in the way?”

What?

“Abigail Fraser was never in the way, Gee,” I insisted, leaning forward. “She was in here for one day to fill out an incident report, and then I took a few days vacation to show her around Baltimore. You signed off on it, so why is this suddenly an issue?”

“I want to be sure your head is clear, Detective,” Gee answered. “That your focus is on your caseload, and not elsewhere.”

Elsewhere meaning Abby, of course.

“Why would it be anywhere else?” I grit my teeth. “I had my vacation, now it’s back to work.”

“Good, good,” Gee nodded. “Since it’s quiet for the moment, go catch up on paperwork. Or go entertain Pembleton, he looks a little lonely.”

Frank Pembleton and the word lonely did not belong in the same sentence together. I rolled my eyes, got up and went back to my desk, and, for all I tried to concentrate, I couldn’t. I was still thinking about the look on Abby’s face as we said our goodbyes. Heartbreaking.

How was this possible? How could this woman, who I’ve known for all of ten days, have become so important to me? Why did I have the urge to pick up the phone, call her, and then book a plane ticket to Chicago as soon as possible?

Miracle of miracles, Frank was actually fairly pleasant as he picked up the phone and drove to the latest crime scene.

“What’d she do to you, Bayliss? You still look like you’ve been hit over the head with the dumb stick.”

“Thanks Frank. That’s a… that’s a nice image to have in my head. Thanks.” I spoke to the window and drummed my fingers against the door handle.

“I’m just saying I’ve never seen you look so…”

“So…?”

“Well, like you’ve been hit over the head with the dumb stick,” he repeated. “What makes this Abigail woman so special?”

“Ah, Frank.” A sigh of relief went through me. It’s so good to be able to talk about Abby. Of course, it’s not the same as talking to her, but still- I am so glad that Frank figured it out. “I don’t know really, it’s just… the moment I saw her, everything just felt right,” I insisted. “Never mind that she’d only come into the bar for something to eat. Actually, I didn’t really notice her at first. Lewis was the one who took her food and drink order.”

“And what changed between her getting her food to all of a sudden, you can’t keep your mind on your job?”

“Some drunk got in her face and insulted her, so she got loud and I had to throw the guy out, hence the incident report,” I continued drumming my fingers. “And the day she came into the precinct to fill it out, and you asked me whether I’d be seeing her again… absolutely.”

“Yeah? What happened?”

“I don’t think you wanna know, Frank. I have a feeling I might be telling you too much already.”

“Nah, come on!” Frank turns a corner and I can see it’s going to take more than a short answer to satisfy his curiosity. “So you went to dinner, and, what? She invite you back to the hotel?”

I chuckle. Frank’s too smart for his own good sometimes.

“Oh…” Frank stretches out the syllable. “So, you practically trip over her in the bar, and now you’re in love.”

Oh shit.

“I didn’t trip over her, Frank,” I shook my head. I don’t bother adding that it wasn’t until later that night that I tripped over my own feet and into her bed. “Everything just clicked. She’s smart and inquisitive, athletic, she loves books and reading. She’s got her own career going, plus, you saw her! She’s absolutely gorgeous!”

Frank’s mouth turned into a line for a second, as though he was really thinking about what he wanted to say before he spoke. “I didn’t get a good look at her.”

“Sure you didn’t,” I rolled my eyes as we pulled up to the crime scene. I saw the officer who called it in waiting for us in the bay window facing the street, but neither me or Frank moved for a second. “We exchanged addresses and numbers before she left, so it’s not as though she’s gone forever.”

“Oh, you poor bastard…” Frank shook his head. “You’re so far gone you don’t even see the problem staring you in the face.”

“What problem?” We got up and out of the car.

“She’s, what? Gone back home?”

“Yep,” I shrug. “You’re acting like I just told you I’m selling my soul to the devil.”

“And what makes you think she’s gonna come back here? What is she, some kind of siren?”

“No, Frank,” I resisted the urge to run my hand down my face. “She works in publishing.”

Frank snorted as we approached the front steps. “A book publisher. Only you, Bayliss.”

“Thanks, Frank. That’s… that’s real encouraging.” We stepped under the crime scene tape across the front door and into the house.

ooOoo

I’d stopped at the photo developer’s after work and picked up my photographs. I’d always asked for double prints if I could, but this time I got a few printed in triplicate. Well, the ones I wanted to send to Tim, obviously, and a few to my grandparents. They were always interested to see where I’d been and what I’d been doing, especially since I didn’t get to see them often enough.

I paid for the photos and got back in the car. Ray would need it soon, but I hadn’t just taken it for a drive; we also needed groceries. I figured I’d cook for Dad and Ray tonight; maybe try out a new recipe. Like Alex, they were always appreciative, even if Ray couldn’t understand why I so rarely cooked meat. Still, I figured he liked my cooking well enough, he never complained.

I knew what I needed, and I made it back home in half an hour.

“Hey, Abby, let’s see those photos,” Ray called out as soon as I came in the door. He and Dad were waiting in the living room, Dad nursing a glass of water and Ray enjoying a glass of milk.

“Be right there, just putting groceries away. Remember, it’s my turn to cook tonight,” I called as I did exactly what I said I was going to. It didn’t take me very long, and soon, all three of us are going through the envelope of photos.

“Oh, this is a nice one,” Dad was very interested in the photos from the marina and the aquarium. “How did you manage to get such clear photos? It looks like it was quite dark.” I can tell he’s distracted, though he hasn’t mentioned why.

“Not in that part of the aquarium,” I answered. “I spent a good three hours wandering through the entire place. It’s fascinating.”

I saw Dad smile for a moment as we move on from the aquarium to the photos that Tim and I took at Fort McHenry. It had been really hot that day, so we’d taken as many pictures as we could in some sort of shade. There were pictures of the garrison, of the flag, and of the employees who were dressed in full regalia.

“Wow!” Ray said under his breath. “How long were you here?”

“Fort McHenry? About six hours or so. There were tours of the grounds, and the garrison is really quite big. You know that’s where the Battle of Baltimore was fought? And that’s also where the anthem was written?”

“Really?” I could tell Ray was not interested in that part of it, but he was really enjoying the photos I took. Soon enough, we came to the photo of Tim and I that someone else took for us, so that we could have a photo together.

My eyes misted over slightly as I stared at the photograph. We were smiling, our arms around each others’ shoulders (well, my arm around his torso due to the height difference), and the next one was of us quite close. Tim had turned his head to look at me as I stared at the camera, and there was a different sort of smile on his face. He looked genuinely happy; his smile was reaching all the way to his eyes, and it looked like he was laughing. But it’s a laugh where you can see how happy he really was to have me with him.

I sniffed, and Ray bent his head down.

“This is the guy, isn’t it?” he whispered in my ear.

I nodded and felt my face crumple, and I dropped my head into my hands. I felt Dad’s hand on my back immediately, as I sniffed and wiped my eyes. “God, you have no idea how good it feels to be able to say something…” I sat up and sniffed again, and suddenly found myself being offered a handkerchief. “I never expected this, at all. It was like… I, I can’t describe it.”

“What do you mean, Abigail?” Dad’s voice was gentle, and I realized I was babbling.

“I guess the closest thing I can compare it to is the look you said you had the very first time you met Mom,” I answered. “You said your eyes bugged out of your head and your jaw was on the floor.”

“That’s true, it was,” Dad smiled at the memory. “How did you meet him?”

“Dad…” I chuckled. “The man in the photo, that’s Tim Bayliss…”

I saw Dad’s eyes go wide as he wracked his brain, trying to remember where he’d heard the name before. “Huh…” he sat back against the couch and crossed his arms over his chest.

“What? I miss something?” Ray squints to study the photo more closely. “Ohhh….” he draws the syllable out.

I shush him with a finger to my lips.

“Yeah…” I sighed. “Go on. Ask the question.”

“What question?”

“The question I know you’re both wanting to ask me,” I’m not going to deny them anything, depending on what they ask. “Go on…”

“I’ll start at the beginning then,” I could tell Dad was keeping a very tight rein on his emotions. His face had taken on its ‘Mountie Mask’ quality once again. “He’s the one who rescued you from the bar, yes?”

“Yes, he’s part owner of said bar. It’s a cop bar called The Waterfront. I met all three owners that night.”

“And you spent the night at his apartment because he recognized the hotel you’d booked into as a crime scene he’d worked a few years before?”

“Dad, he told you that when you talked to him that night,” I reminded him. Even after only two questions, I could tell that this was going to turn into an interrogation if I wasn’t careful. “And the next day he invited me out to dinner, which I accepted. Speaking of dinner, I’m going to go start on the meal I had planned for the three of us tonight. Excuse me....”

I got up and hastily retreated to the kitchen. I knew that if I hadn’t cut them off when I did, things would have escalated very quickly. Besides, now they knew Tim’s name and what he looked like, thanks to those pictures. Both Dad and Ray could decide what they wanted to do with that information.

ooOoo

I could see that Ben was truly not impressed by the fact that Abby spent the majority of her vacation in Tim Bayliss’ company. I knew that he still thought of her as his baby, and he always would, but I truly don’t think he was prepared to find that out. He hid it from her well, though.

“Did you know about this, Ray?” he whispered as he leaned forward, completely serious.

“Know about what?”

“About the fact that she spent the majority of her time with Tim Bayliss while on vacation?”

“How would I know that? You spoke to Abby way more than I did. I’ve been doing overnights since before she left for Baltimore. Hell, you even spoke to Tim, I didn’t.”

“That may be, but I thought that he was simply giving her shelter for the night. I didn’t know it had turned into a romance.”

“So it turned into a romance,” I shrugged. “Abby’s an adult, Tim is an adult... what’s wrong with that?”

“Adulthood isn’t the point here, Ray. She’d had a hell of a night from what she told me about it. Therefore, I can only assume that he took advantage of her when she was feeling vulnerable.”

Okay, now I knew Ben was being completely unreasonable. I couldn’t picture anyone taking advantage of Abby at any point now that she knew how to defend herself. Plus, with how stubborn she was, I’d bet my life savings that she made the first move after Tim invited her to dinner.

“Come on, do you really think she’d be so moony over him if that were the case?”

“Well, I…” he stopped and blinked. “No, you’re right. Knowing Abby, she’d have given him a good working over and been able to claim self defense. And judging from those pictures… she’s fallen head over heels.”

“She’ll probably tell you the same,” I put my hand on his knee and squeezed. “So, don’t sit here worrying about what is or isn’t. Go in there and ask her about Tim.”

Ben cleared his throat and lifted my hand to his mouth, kissing my fingertips.

ooOoo

I made a point of loudly rummaging in the cupboards for a pan and opening the fridge repeatedly for each ingredient. They’re not stupid, one of them will crack eventually and let their curiosity get the best of them.

“Would you like some help in there, Abby?” I hear Dad call.

“Sure! The more the merrier!” I open the cupboard and grab a bowl big enough to hold the six eggs I’m going to need in order to make dinner. I place the eggs in the bowl to come up to room temperature while I chop the vegetables. I’ve decided on making a frittata. There were leftover potatoes and grilled peppers that need to be used up, as well as some spinach, mushrooms, and red onion. As I’d said to Tim, we lived by the “waste not, want not” principle.

“Can I help?” Dad slid in beside me to take over cutting board duties while I prepped the baking dish and preheated the oven.

“Sure,” I was having trouble looking at him. I didn’t want him to be disappointed in me, especially since I’ve never felt for another person the way I do for Tim. Even still, I don’t want to lose my dad; no relationship or romance is worth that. “Could you chop the potatoes into quarters and do the same with the other vegetables?”

“Certainly I can,” Dad got right to it. I watched his hands as he ran the knife through the pile of vegetables. “Do you want to tell me more about Tim?”

I’d actually hoped he’d say that. But how could I explain to my dad how I felt about a man I’d only known for a little over ten days? Would he actually believe me?

“Tim is…” I sighed as Ray walked into the kitchen and reached over my head to grab plates from the cupboard. “He’s smart and handsome and well-read. He’s a homicide detective with a ninety-five percent clearance rate, and the gentlest man I’ve ever met in my life.”

Dad’s colour rose in his cheeks. “Gentle, how?”

“Do you really want me to tell you?” I scooped up a handful of the chopped vegetables and dropped them into the baking dish. “Not just in the way you’re thinking of, but gentle in that, he actually wants to have a conversation with me. He booked personal time off work and was my tour guide around Baltimore, until he and his team backed into a red-ball.”

“A red-ball? Ugh…” Ray chimed in as he opened the cutlery drawer. Before he’d made Detective, I had a suspicion that he’d had his fair share of those cases. “So, aside from this red-ball, and the aquarium and Fort McHenry, where else did you go?”

I detailed Tim’s and my adventures around the city (minus the hotel room excursions, of course), as all three of us finished prepping dinner and setting the table.

As happy as I was to be able to talk about Tim, I really missed him. I missed wandering around the city with him, our long conversations, lying in bed together… even watching cartoons.

The oven timer buzzed, and I brought the frittata out to the table. Dishing it out, Ray was smiling.

“So Tim is veggie, is he?”

“If by that you mean vegetarian, yes he is,” I sat down as Dad poured us all water.

“So that’s why you picked the bacon off your pizza last night.”

“Would you believe me if I said I just didn’t want bacon last night?”

“No I would not,” Ray chuckled as we all sat down and dig into our meal. “Hey, this is really good, Abby.”

“Thanks,” I cut into my own piece of frittata and chewed. Ray was right. I liked how this turned out. I’d definitely make it for Tim the next time I saw him.

God, listen to me, going on as though that was actually going to happen. It was a long shot, even though it was the only thing I could think about. I wanted Tim to come to Chicago and play tourist. I’d be his tour guide, just as he’d been for me.

Maybe that was a good way to start off my letter to him, because every picture should have a note or something similar attached to it. But how would I tell him just how much I missed him without sounding like a fool?

By the end of dinner, which we mostly ate in silence, I found myself exhausted. The plane ride, and the upheaval of leaving, only to come home and see that my life had changed so drastically in the span of ten days… I didn’t know what to do. This wasn’t something either Dad or Ray could’ve helped me with. They wouldn’t understand.

The best thing was for me to clear the table, brush my teeth, and go straight to bed. After all, Dad had always reasoned, things would look better in the morning.

ooOoo

I’m walking through the trees toward the sound of water. It’s cold, but what else would I expect from… I can’t tell if this is Tulita or the dog park that Dad takes Dief to so he can run and get some exercise. My mind is all jumbled.

I keep walking, until I come up on the water, and I see a woman with long hair sitting with her back to me. This time, I know it’s Mom. And thank God, I really need to see her. I want to tell her all about Tim, about how I feel about him. I can’t really share with Dad, because he will always see me as his baby girl. Maybe Mom can offer some insight into what I should do.

“Hello my gorgeous girl,” Mom greets me, but this time, she’s speaking in English. The first time I’d ever seen her in my dreams, she’d spoken in Inuktitut. “You look older than me now.”

“That’s because I am,” I smile, even though it hurts to know the truth: that I will get older, and Mom will not. She is forever sixteen years old, yet she is wiser than I will ever be.

“This is true, but it does not mean we cannot acknowledge the fact,” she leans down and kisses my forehead. “I thought you might come to ask me questions.”

“Hi Mom,” I belatedly greet her and sit down beside her, lean into her shoulder. “I’m glad you came. I need to talk with you.”

“Is this about the man you met in Baltimore?” How can she know that, when I haven’t said anything?

“Yes.” When I am talking with her, I cannot hide my feelings. “As soon as I saw him… Mom, I cannot describe it. Everything became clear. Like I could see the future.”

“None of us can see the future, Abigail,” she chides me, gently. “But it sounds as though, how is it said in English? Asavakkit.”

“Love. Yes.” I nod, and I feel my heart swell. “But how can this be? He is Dad’s age, and I have only known him for ten days time. Surely ten days is not enough to know for sure.”

“Yet you feel so strongly for this man,” Mom puts her arm around my shoulders. “I knew in less time than that how I felt about your father.”

“You did?” Hearing her say that, I suddenly felt a lot better. It was good to know that I was not the only woman in the family who had experienced this.

“I did. He came to Tulita when he was twelve.” She explains, and there is a light in her eyes that I have never seen before. “It was just after my eleventh birthday. We developed a very deep friendship. The three of us, meaning your father, your uncle, and I were so close that you rarely saw one without the other.” Mom smirks at the turn of phrase. “Of course, that phrase does not fit perfectly, but you understand what I am trying to say, yes?”

“I think so,” I answer. “What happened after that? When did you know how you felt about Dad?”

“When I kissed him for the very first time,” Mom smiles at the memory. “It was the day I turned fourteen, and I was in love with him immediately.”

“And just over a year later, you found out you were pregnant with me.”

“I did, and I wept because I was so happy.”

We’re silent for a moment, looking out at the water.

“His name is Timothy Bayliss,” I tell her. “He defended my honour while I was out having dinner, and drove me back to my hotel.”

“And he is a police officer?”

“A homicide detective, yes,” I nod. I continue, telling her about how he recognized the hotel and thought it unsafe, and how the next day he found me a different hotel and invited me out to dinner. I also tell her about what happened after dinner, but not in detail. She does not need to know that.

Mom listens without interrupting, and, when I finish speaking, puts her hand on my cheek, making me look at her. Her eyes are full of warmth.

“This Timothy Bayliss,” she’s switched to Inuktitut. “He is who was meant for you. I am sure of it.”

“But I don’t know what to do,” I tell her. “He is in Baltimore, while I am here. I cannot ask him to leave where he is needed most, just as I cannot leave Chicago.”

“And why can you not invite him to visit you in Chicago?” Mom reasons, stroking my cheek with her thumb. “The more time you spend together, the more you will know, and you will learn what is right for the two of you.”

I feel my eyes watering. How can Mom know so much and I’m struggling so badly with my own feelings?

“I want to,” I tell her, my hand over hers on my cheek. “I want him to come see Chicago, and to meet both Dad and Ray, but I don’t know how they’ll react. Tim doesn’t know that Dad is so young.”

“Age matters no more than gender,” Mom tells me. “Your father knows that. He learned that lesson very early, and he learned it again when he met Ray.”

“Do you know he was scared to tell me he had fallen in love with Ray?” I ask. “I guess he felt a bit like I do right now. I am terrified of how he will react.”

“Have you ever known your father to react harshly when presented with something new?”

“No.” I shake my head. “He looks for all the facts and gauges his reaction based on what he understands and has learned.”

“And you do not feel he would do the same when you introduce the two of them?”

“I don’t know,” I answer. I want to know that, but we won’t find out until Tim actually comes to Chicago. “But I know, in my heart of hearts, that the love I have for Tim is real. Everything feels right when I am with him.”

“Then let that be your guide,” Mom nods and smiles, her crooked eye tooth showing. “You said you have his address and phone number, as he has yours. Write to him, talk with him, you will know when the time is right.”

I sniff, and hold my arms out for a hug. “I love you, Mom.”

“I love you too, gorgeous girl,” Mom whispers and disappears just as I wake up.

It’s Saturday, and I don’t have to be anywhere today. As such, I sit down at my desk and grab a piece of paper and a pen.

ooOoo

It’s been a couple of days since I heard from Abby, but that’s not surprising. I haven’t been home for much longer than the time it takes to check my answering machine or to look in the mailbox. I knew she was probably busy too, as she’d mentioned they’d just finished a book launch before she’d left on vacation, but that didn’t stop me from worrying. How did I know this wasn’t just a holiday romance?

I’d just finished putting a case down, and I was exhausted. Gee even told me to go home and sleep, because if I didn’t, he was going to kick me down the stairs and frog march me to my car himself. So, I listened to him and drove home.

When I opened the door, there was an envelope that had been pushed through the mail slot. When I picked it up, I noticed that it was from Abby. She’d written her name and return address in the top left hand corner.

My heart leapt into my throat. Thank God. She’d actually written to me. I ran my index finger along the top of the envelope, ripping it open, but careful to keep the corner with her address intact.

I dumped my keys in the bowl by the front door, closed it, and sat down on the couch.

Folded into the letter was the photo of the two of us at Fort McHenry. She looked so small, standing next to me with her arm around my waist, but there’s a look on her face that shows just how happy she was to be with me that day.

I smiled and put the photos on the coffee table for just a second. I wanted to see what her letter said before I did anything else.

 _Dear Tim,_ I read.

_I’ve put the photos of us from our day at Fort McHenry in with this letter, so that I’ve got a copy as well. I always try to get photos printed in duplicate if I can, or in some cases, triplicate. These two, though, they’re just for you and me. Of all the photos we took, I think they might be my favourite._

_It’s relatively busy at work now that I’m back, but everything feels different. I’m enjoying the work I’m doing, but I also feel like I could be doing this ~~in Baltimore~~  anywhere in the States, not just in Chicago. Maybe it’s because the big launch is over and we are currently deciding which work to promote next, and that takes time. Mostly though, I think it’s because ~~I can’t stop thinking about you~~ I miss you._

_Oh God, I sound like a silly little girl with a crush, don’t I? It’s true though, I really do miss you. I wanted that to be a little more eloquent but that’s just how it came out, and trying to write it down any other way just looks childish. So, the way I’ve written it down will just have to do. I miss you. I miss everything about you. I miss the time we spent together and cooking for each other, touring around Baltimore and watching cartoons with a bowl of popcorn between us. That’s not to mention what else I miss, but as you know, it’s too filthy to put into a letter._

_Okay, maybe filthy is not the right word. Personal. Let’s say personal. No, personal doesn’t fit either. Beautiful. There. I like that. What we had in my hotel room was too beautiful to put into words and write them down on the page. I remember everything about those nights. I will never forget how it felt to curl up and sleep beside you ~~~~ ~~after making love~~ afterward. In hindsight, even that badly timed phone call and subsequent awkward moments were worth everything._

_Speaking of awkward, well, maybe not so much awkward as inevitable, my dad and Ray wanted to see the photos after I got them back from being developed. They saw the same photo I just sent you, and they saw that look we both had. Now they know your name, and how much I care about you. Dad is a little stunned, though. I don’t think he was expecting to find out that… I don’t know where I was going with this thought. Anyway, Dad’s a little stunned, but he was very curious about you. Don’t worry, he’s not after you with a shotgun… yet. I kid. I don’t think he will. Come after you with a shotgun, that is. I was very worried about that, especially because it felt so good to be able to talk about you, and I had trouble sleeping because I was so relieved._

_That doesn’t make much sense, I know, but believe me, when your dad is RCMP and your stepdad is Chicago PD, there’s a lot to worry about, especially since I’m an only child, and my dad’s daughter. But, as scared as I was, Dad has always said (and my grandparents said it too), that things would look better in the morning. So I packed myself off to bed and tried not to think about how my Dad and Ray were taking the news._

_And when that happened (it was on Friday night), I dreamt of my mom. Dreaming is the only time I’ve ever really seen her, aside from the photograph I have of her and my dad. They are always good dreams, when I dream of her. Although that is somewhat confusing as well._

_Sorry, that’s not very clear. When I was growing up, my grandmother would tell me that if the dreamer would tell their recurring dream to someone, that person could make it disappear simply by saying so. That being said, our elders have some difficulty understanding the distinction between good dream and bad dream, because in most cases, a happy dream warns against bad things and a bad dream can turn out to be quite helpful. Whenever I’ve dreamt about my mom, it’s always been when there’s a big change happening._

_All in all, that was a really long winded way of trying to say that in my dream, I told my mom about you, and she listened to everything without interrupting. She told me that, while it’s very clear that we are well matched, it’s also clear that we need to spend more time getting to know each other. She even suggested that perhaps one day soon, you could come visit me in Chicago?_

_I really like that idea, you coming to visit Chicago. I’d be your tour guide, same as you were for me. While I don’t have my own place (publishing doesn’t pay that well at the moment), there are some beautiful hotels and bed and breakfasts. I’d draw a wink, but I’m not any good at drawing. We could tour all around the city, maybe see the Cubs play, anything that you want to do. If you do come visit, I want to be as good a host for you as you were for me._

_I wish I was more articulate right now, but I’m sitting at my desk in my room having just woken up, and Dief is poking his head out from under my bed looking to pilfer treats before breakfast. Dief (short for Diefenbaker) is our dog. Well, half wolf. Don’t ever let him hear you call him half-wolf, though. Not that he will, since he’s deaf, and if he reads lips, he’s self-taught. Although he’s feeling a little chastised this morning. I scolded him for sticking his nose up my dress when I first got home the other day. He didn’t mean it maliciously, but apparently I smelled very different after coming back from Baltimore._

_I want to come back. I chose Baltimore on a whim thanks to a vague suggestion from a client (the one whose book we launched before I headed out), and I’m glad I did. She was the one who told me the seafood was top-notch. I keep thinking that, if I hadn’t listened to her, I would never have met you. I should send her flowers._

_Write soon,_  
_Abby_

I smiled to myself and folded the letter back up. I could see how much the words had cost her to say earlier in the letter. She was hiding her true feelings and words behind softer sentences and sentiments. Maybe it was because she wasn’t sure how I would react. Truth be told, I wanted to see those words and sentiments expressed the way she’d meant for them to be expressed. I wanted to see the confidence she had in person expressed on the page.

I could also see how important it was for her to tell me about dreaming of her mother. She’d mentioned the first night I met her that her mother had died when she was born, but not about the dreaming. I’d had dreams too, but never about a family member who’d died. Adena. More often than not, I dreamt of Adena Watson.

I’d definitely not be getting any sleep until I either called her or started writing her back. I wasn’t sure my voice would work. I’d been talking all day; visiting the Medical Examiner, interrogating suspects and knocking on doors…

And yet, I picked up the phone and dialed the number she’d given me on the slip of paper. It was sitting by the phone as I hadn’t had time to transfer it into my address book.

My throat went dry as I heard it start to ring. I didn’t know whether she had caller ID, but she had said that the number she gave me meant that it wouldn’t get mixed up with household or business calls.

“Hello, Abigail Fraser speaking.”

“Abby?”

“Oh, Tim! Hi,” her voice dropped. “Sorry, I was just on a conference call. That was my ‘business voice’.”

“Tough day?”

“No, just long,” I could hear the smile coming back into her voice. “Just be glad I caught on that it was you, otherwise I would have asked how I could help you.”

I chuckled. “Just called to tell you I got your letter.”

“Yeah?” she asked. “What did you think of the photos?”

“They turned out nice,” I smiled to myself. “I agree with you, though. I think the ones you sent are my favourite too.”

“I’m so glad,” she said. “Although I’m starting to wish I didn’t have to come back to Chicago. I miss you.”

Ah, there was the confidence I’d wanted to hear in her letter.

“I miss you too,” I answered, the phone pressed hard against my ear. “I do like your other idea, though.”

“What other idea?”

“I’d love to visit you in Chicago,” I told her, and I heard her breath hitch in excitement. I smiled despite myself, because I knew she couldn’t see me. “A Cubs game sounds nice, although no team beats the Orioles.”

“Oh, don’t let Ray hear you say that,” she laughed. “You’d never hear the end of it, and neither would I. Actually, don’t open that can of worms, that’s not cool.”

I chuckled again, and she echoed me. God, her laugh was just as beautiful as she was. The trip to Chicago and getting to see her again was sounding more and more tempting by the minute.

“So, I was thinking…”

“What about?”

“I’m really intrigued about this dream you mentioned.” I answered. “And the fact that you mentioned that that’s the only time you ever really see your mom.”

“I did see her one other time,” she hesitated. “It wasn’t when I was dreaming, although…” she paused completely. “Never mind, forget I said anything.”

Okay, something’s wrong here. I know that neither of us are going to tell each other everything, but this seemed monumental. I didn’t want to push her though. When she was ready to tell me, she would. Still, it doesn’t stop me worrying that she’s trying to tell me something and I’m not hearing it yet.

ooOoo

I had to stop myself from speaking for a second. Could I really tell Tim about the Carver incident? And if I did, what would he think of me? I hate the fact that it happened, and that I’m still reeling from the consequences this many years later. Granted, Charles Carver was in prison, and he would never be granted parole. He’d tried to contact me several times through letters, and Helen had told me (the last time we’d spoken) that he had tried to contact her as well. Whenever either of us had received these letters, we would either shred them or burn them immediately. The bastard could rot, and good riddance.

“You sure, Abby?” Tim’s voiced jarred me out of my morbid thoughts.

“Yes I’m sure,” I knew I’d answered a little too quickly. “So tell me, how is being back at work?”

“It’s alright,” the inflection in his voice was a good indication that all was not alright. “Gee asked me whether you’d be a distraction.”

“And am I?”

“Maybe a little.” At least he was honest. “But a welcome one.”

“Did I meet Gee?”

He paused again. “No, I don’t think you did. Tall guy, imposing?”

I felt my face scrunch up. “Then no, I didn’t…” I switched the phone over to my other ear. “I can understand him wanting to be sure that you’re focused on what you need to be focused on, even if it does mean that he’s a little short with you.”

“Apparently,” I think he shrugged. “How is work for you?”

“I’m starting to hate it a little,” I quantified it. “Maybe not hate, but it feels really slow. It’s not really exciting right now.”

“Why do you say that? When you were here, you were telling me how much you loved it.”

“And I do, just not right now,” I answered, because I knew I was in danger of repeating myself. “Like I said in my letter, I feel like I could be doing this anywhere in the country. Why should I stay in Chicago?”

ooOoo

But she hadn’t said ‘anywhere in the country’ in her letter. At least, not initially. She’d initially said Baltimore, and then had scratched it out. Why was she hiding what she’d really said?

“Tell you what,” I leaned forward, elbows on knees and the phone squished to my ear. “The next time I’ve got vacation coming up, which is in a couple of weeks, I’ll be sure to get a plane ticket.”

“Yeah?” she seemed to perk up immediately. “I’d really like that. The sooner the better.”

“Me too,” I agreed. Because I really do want to see her again. “Although I’m sure you’ve got things to get finished. It’s nearly, what… eight o’clock?”

“Yeah, but lucky for me that conference call was the last of the day,” she sounded relieved. “Lately it’s been nothing but meetings and conference calls. Another meeting that could have been a memo.”

“Followed by insane amounts of paperwork?”

“Not tonight it’s not,” she genuinely sounded exhausted. “I’m going to finish writing my notes from that call, then take Dief for a walk.”

“Dief meaning your dog, yeah?”

“Yes. Well, he’s more my dad’s dog, but Dief followed me home when I was ten. He was a puppy at the time, and Dad named him. Ever since then he’s stuck to us like glue.”

The thought of Abby adopting a stray as she did makes me smile. “How’d you come to adopt him?”

“We kind of adopted each other.” She answered, and I think she’s smiling. “He followed me home after I’d been bullied.”

“Bullied?”

“Absolutely,” she sounds as though she’s lost in memory. “Keeping in mind that I was growing up during the 80s in the Northwest Territories. To be Inuit, even half Inuit, was not easy. In fact, I was one of the lucky ones.”

“How do you mean?”

“A lot of Inuit children were taken from their homes,” she told me. “A lot of them… I say them when I should say us. A lot of us were ripped away and sent to residential schools, to take care of the ‘Indian problem.’” I heard the same venom in her voice that I’d heard the first night I met her. “Those of us who weren’t faced a very difficult life. There isn’t much in the way of resources for the life that we were told we were supposed to live in order to avoid Hellfire and damnation.”

Good Lord, poor Abby. I can feel my heart breaking for her. I’d had no idea that such a thing existed in Canada.

“So anyway,” she pulled herself together. “The other kids had been picking on me because I’m only half-Inuit.” I could hear the sarcasm in her voice in saying those words. “You’d think that my life was ruined because my dad is Caucasian. Anyway, they’d been pulling at my clothes and picking at my fingers to see if they could make me, the half breed, lose my temper.” Abby took a deep breath to steady herself before continuing. “And that day I was walking home instead of meeting my dad at his detachment, since we’d agreed to try out my going home on my own after school a few days a week. As soon as I started walking, I realized I’d forgotten my house key, because of course that would happen when I was having a bad day.”

“So overall, a really shit day.”

“That’s the polite way of phrasing it,” she agreed. “And as I was walking, I noticed there was this little pup following me. Once I got home, I asked him if he had a home. Turns out he didn’t, because he just barked and sat on my feet.”

“He chose you, then?”

“I think so. Once my dad got home, we gave the pup a bath, tried out the name Diefenbaker on him.”

“Diefenbaker? That’s a weird name for a dog.”

“For a wolf too,” Abby laughed. “Or a prime minister.” Before I could ask her any more questions, she continued. “Anyway, he liked the name, because we got lots of happy barks, and he moved in under my bed that night.”

“Will I meet him when I come to Chicago?”

“I imagine so,” her voice changed again. “He was with me at school when I first moved to Chicago too. Moving from the Territories to Chicago was a huge shock. The only word I could use to describe it is shit. That year was absolute shit.”

She stopped, and I wondered if she thought she was getting ahead of herself.

“That’s a story for another time, though,” she insisted. “I didn’t mean to get into so much detail about that.”

“It’s alright. I’m happy to hear about Dief. It sounds like he’s very important to you.” There was no ‘sounds like’ about it, I could tell he was.

“Thank you,” she answered. “All in all, I really am looking forward to you coming to Chicago. When you do, let me know when you’re flying in and I’ll come pick you up at the airport.”

“Sounds good.” I’m not sure I should ask this, but I think I will. “Am I booking a hotel room or a B&B while I’m there?”

“You should,” she told me. “Like I said, I don’t have my own place yet. It’s too expensive to rent and save at the same time. So Dad and Ray are charging me reduced rent even though I’m working full time.”

“Seems fair.”

“It’s more than fair, but that also means that, with me in one room and Dad and Ray in the other, the apartment gets a little crowded.” She sounded embarrassed for a moment, then gave a light laugh. “Not to worry though, I’ll still be your tour guide.”

“If that’s the case, I’ll get a rental car. It makes the most sense. That way, you can be my navigator while I drive.”

“I like that plan,” she answered.

I do too. It’s incredibly helpful to know we have something to look forward to, even if work was stressing us both out at the moment. I heard a beep as we were speaking. Someone was trying to call in.

“Was that beep on my end or yours?”

“I think it might have been mine, though I don’t know who’d be calling me…” I heard that beep again. “Damn, whoever it is, it must be important. I’ll say goodnight for now.”

“Good night Abby. I’ll start on that letter back to you.”

“I’m looking forward to it. Sleep well.”

“You too. Good night now.”

We hung up, and I did as I said I would. I went to my desk, grabbed a pen and paper, and started writing. I knew I wasn’t as articulate as Abby, but the least I could do was write her back.

ooOoo

As happy as I’d been to talk to Tim, having to say goodnight and hang up the phone was the worst feeling in the world. All I could think about was that, the last time we’d said good night to each other, we’d been lying naked together in my hotel room in Baltimore. I wanted to hold him again. Even though we were still very new at this, long distance was terrible. Nothing was enough.

I leaned back in my desk chair and stretched, groaning as I stood up and flexed my arms behind my back. Wow, it felt good to move. Even just that little bit helped in clearing the cobwebs.

It didn’t help the wanting, though. In a few weeks, Tim would be here in Chicago. Not soon enough, but it would have to do.

ooOoo

The day where I headed to Chicago had arrived, and since it was a domestic flight, I only had one checked bag and a carry on. Like the rest of the Homicide unit, I’d learned to pack light. After all, there was no sense in packing more than you needed when you could just use the laundromat wherever you were.

Getting off the plane, I went to find my rental car. Abby and I had spoken a few days ago, and had decided that once I’d checked into my hotel, I was meeting her at her dad’s apartment for dinner.

“Should I bring anything? I’d hate to show up empty handed.”

“How about a dessert? None of us are big wine drinkers.”

So I drove to the address that Abby had given me with an apple pie on the back seat. Who doesn’t like apple pie? As I drove, I felt my heart hammering in my chest. I was just a few minutes away from seeing Abby again, and, dear God, meeting her dad and stepdad. I’d only ever spoken to her dad, and that was intimidating enough. I imagined he was terrifying in person, especially if you crossed him.

I pulled into the parking lot of Abby’s apartment building, shopping bag containing the pie in one hand, and climbed the stairs to ring the buzzer.

I listened as the sound of numbers dialing crackled through the intercom.

“Hello?” Abby’s voice. It was the sweetest sound I’d heard all day.

“Hello Abby…”

“Hi! Come on up!” It was the sweetest sound I’d heard in a very long time. The front door clicked as it was unlocked with the touch of a button. Someone in the apartment pressed said button, and the front door unlocked.

I climbed the stairs, my heart hammering. I couldn’t help but feel slightly sick. I hadn’t had a ‘meet the parents’ scenario in years. And with how intimidating her dad was, I think I was expecting a shotgun in my face as soon as I knocked.

If it was going to happen, it might as well happen now. I made a fist and knocked.

A few moments later, the apartment door opened, and I came face to face with Abby. She was wearing a long summer dress with a black and white zig zag pattern, and the biggest smile I’d ever seen.

“Oh my God!” she gasped and moved out of the way to let me inside. Once I was, she threw her arms around me and pulled me close. “Oh my God, you’re here!” she turned her head and kissed my cheek. “I’m so happy to see you.”

I kissed her cheek in return and stepped inside. “I’m happy to see you too.” I squeezed her tightly and quickly let her go. I take a quick step back for a better look at her. “You’re beautiful.”

“Thank you, you’re very handsome yourself. Can I take anything for you?”

“I’ve brought apple pie for dessert,” it’s the only thing I can think of at that moment. “Where should I put it?”

“We can leave it here for a minute or two,” she told me, reaching up and putting her hand on my cheek. “God, you look so good. I’ve missed you so much.”

That made me smile despite my nerves. God love her. “I’ve missed you too.”

“Come on through. Dad and Ray are just getting things in the oven. We’ve done bruschetta to start, and then pasta e fagioli done in the slow cooker for dinner. The apple pie will be amazing for dessert.”

“That sounds delicious.” And it does. Chris had introduced me to pasta e fagioli when we’d been out for dinner together one night, and the mention of it brought back memories of a meal well crafted. However, I’m less inclined to think about food than how nervous I am to meet Abby’s dad and stepdad. I can smell the pasta, hear the clatter of pans and the oven door opening as she leads me into the living room.

“I’ll give you the tour after we eat, but first, did you want anything to drink?”

“Um…” my throat is dry, and I know I have to drink something, but with my being so nervous, I’m not sure I can stomach much. “Could I get some water?” There, that would do.

“Sit yourself down, I’ll be right back.” She leads me into the living room and I get acquainted with a squishy leather chair while she ventures into the kitchen for a glass. She returns a few moments later, water glass in hand. “There we are. Dad and Ray will be right out. And my Uncle Ray is coming too, but he won’t be here for another half hour or so.”

I blinked. So, she had a stepdad named Ray and an uncle named Ray? I’d heard of people having similar names, but so close within the same family? Granted, if one Ray was her stepdad and the other was her uncle, then that wouldn’t be so bad. Still, it was an awkward coincidence that must lead to occasional misunderstandings.

“Does that get confusing?” I took a sip of water as she sat down on the armrest beside me.

“Not really. It’s very easy to tell which is which,” she shrugged and made herself comfortable. “But if it helps, Uncle Ray’s colleagues all call him Vecchio.”

“Vecchio? He’s Italian?”

“He’ll tell you so. The pasta recipe came from his Mom. I call her Nonna.” Abby smiled. “But my step dad and Uncle Ray don’t look anything alike, which is hilarious when you think about how they first met. Did I tell you that story?”

“No, I don’t think so.” And then I realized I had no idea who she was talking about. “Wait, when who first met? You mean your dad and stepdad?”

“No, my stepdad and Uncle Ray,” she answered as I took another sip. I wasn’t usually so thirsty, but my mouth and throat were dry from nerves, and possibly the flight. “Although it might be better if you heard it from them…” she stopped speaking and looked over. “Oh, hi Dad.”

A man with thick brown hair, intense eyes and nearly as tall as me walked into the room, dressed in a suit and tie. He looked to be my age as well. Had she really called him Dad? Looking at him, I’d have thought maybe he was her cousin or half brother.

I put my water glass on the coffee table, using a coaster of course, and stood.

Once I did, neither of us moved. We stood sizing each other up for what seemed like hours, until Abby finally spoke.

“Dad, this is Tim Bayliss. Tim, this is my Dad…”

“Benton Fraser, RCMP, nice to meet you,” he stuck out his hand for a handshake.

I complied, although I wasn’t aware that my mouth was hanging open slightly until Abby nudged me in the ribs.

I blinked and managed a “Nice to meet you, uh, sir,” before my cheeks coloured with embarrassment. Lord, this was awkward. I’d fully expected… Benton, was that really his name?... to at least be in his sixties, from the language he used when we’d spoken on the phone. I couldn’t believe that the man standing in front of me was Abby’s dad. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“All good things, I hope,” he bit out, letting go of my hand and crossing his arms over his chest. It didn’t look like a defensive stance, more of an “I’m still deciding what to do with the fact that we’re the same age” type stance. I didn’t blame him; I’d been knocked for a loop as well.

“Oh yes, very good things.” It was an inane, empty comment, but I had no idea how to keep the conversation from descending into awkward silence. Awkward silence might be preferable about now. “Um…”

ooOoo

God Almighty, why did everyone do that? Yes, Dad was young. But that’s what happened when two people both forget a condom and got lucky in avoiding pregnancy the first time they had sex, and then, thinking that they’re invincible and there’s no possible way they could get pregnant so young, actually get pregnant. Yes, I knew it was a bit of a shock at first, but people had to stop thinking that teenage pregnancy was some sort of new phenomenon. Tim, as a homicide detective, should know this just as well as I did.

“Shall we sit?” Dad asked. Tim nodded, taking his seat only after Dad did. I perched next to Tim, same as I had before Dad came in the room.

Tim cleared his throat and pushed his glasses back up his nose.

“So, Tim,” Dad rolled his name around in his mouth for a moment. “Remind me again how you and Abby met?”

“At the Waterfront,” Tim started, and clasped his hands together merely for something to do and turned to face me. “I don’t know how much you told him, Abby…”

“You can go into more detail, I don’t mind.”

“You’re sure?”

“Oh yes, that’s alright,” I nodded.

Tim cleared his throat again and took a sip of water before continuing. “I’m part owner of the Waterfront with two of my colleagues from the Homicide unit. And while Abby was on vacation, she came into the bar…”

He went on to explain how the young man who will forever remain Douchebag McAsshat got in my face and had to be thrown out of the bar before Tim drove me to my hotel and recognized it as a former crime scene. I knew Dad already knew that part of the story, but he was waiting until after the part where I’d checked into my new hotel and gone to the aquarium before saying anything else.

“So it began as a holiday romance?” he seemed remarkably calm, but there was a look in his eyes that told me he wasn’t listening as intently as he usually did. Even then, I started to think that maybe I’d been worried for nothing, like Mom had said. Dad considered all sides of the story before reacting. He’d always measured his emotions in that way, for as long as I could remember.

“It did, but even holiday romances have potential,” I answered him, being careful not to reach for Tim’s hand at that moment. I wanted to, but I didn’t want to escalate an already tense situation. “Isn’t that how it was for you and Ray? Or with you and Mom?”

“Don’t change the subject,” Dad was smiling, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. “To set your mind at ease, no. Your mother and I did not start off as a holiday romance, and I met Ray just before you came back from visiting Rebecca and Henry.”

Tim looked at me in confusion.

“Rebecca and Henry are my grandparents. I’ve got pictures of them in my room, along with a picture of Dad and Mom. I’ll show you later if you like.”

“That’d be nice,” he nodded just as Ray came out to the table, set the plate of bruschetta down on a trivet, and came out to the living room.

“Hey now, who’s having a holiday romance?” he sat down beside Dad and it took him a minute before he realized that Tim was in the room. “Hi,” he greeted him. “Ray Kowalski.” He stood up and offered Tim his hand.

“Tim Bayliss,” Tim returned the gesture. “Nice to meet you, Ray.”

“You too.” They sat back down at the same time. “Hey Ben, what time did Vecchio say he’d be by?”

Dad craned his neck to look at the clock in the kitchen. “In about half an hour. Closer to twenty minutes now.”

“Okay, that’s not too bad.” An awkward silence threatened to come over us again. I could tell that Tim was nervous, but he was doing his best to keep himself under control. “So, Tim…”

“Yes sir?”

Ray’s eyes went wide and he sat back against the couch. “Sir? No one’s called me that in a long time.” He chuckled lightly. “So, Abby told me you’re a detective?”

“Coming on six years in homicide, yes,” Tim had a very determined look in his eye, and I could see that he and Ray were sizing each other up, same as he and Dad had. “Three years on the Mayor’s security detail before that, and QRT before that.”

“Remind me what QRT is?” Okay, I knew Ray knew what QRT was, and I could see that he was trying to catch Tim off guard, but I could also see that Tim was too smart to fall into that trap.

“Quick Response Team,” Tim answered after a reasonable amount of time. “I’d always wanted to work in Homicide, so it became a goal when I started as a police.”

Both Ray and Dad smiled at the familiar slang term.

“You’ll do for now,” Ray squeezed Dad’s shoulder and stood up again. “Are you hungry?”

That was when I knew Ray was somewhat satisfied that Tim was not a terrible human being bent on corrupting me. He was a little bit like Uncle Ray in that sense; he’d feed you within an inch of your life if he wanted to take care of you.

“I am, actually. We all know that airline food isn’t that great.” We all followed Ray back to the table. “And there aren’t many options if you’re vegetarian.”

“Abby did mention you were vegetarian,” Ray nodded and pointed to an extra chair where Tim was to sit. I stood at the one next to his. “So, we’ve got bruschetta to start, and the pasta is still finishing in the slow cooker.”

“That sounds delicious,” Tim pulled my chair out for me before sitting down; a gesture that I could see was not lost on Dad. “It’s certainly better than what I can do on my own.”

“Why do you say that?” Ray asked as he gestured for my plate and began portioning out the bruschetta.

“I’m not much of a cook,” Tim answered. “I can do a few simple things. Pasta and salad, maybe a can of soup heated on the stove, or if I’m really not in the mood to cook, take out or cheese and crackers with cut up veggies.” He’s smart enough not to mention that I’d cooked him the shepherd’s pie in his apartment. At this early stage, he knew it probably wouldn’t go over well.

Just as Ray finished plating, there was a knock at the door. I got up to go and answer it.

Uncle Ray had arrived earlier than he’d thought he would, and it looked like he’d brought something to add to the meal. I smiled and opened the door to let him in.

“Hey Abby.” He quickly kissed my cheek before handing me the dish covered in a protective tea towel and taking his coat off. “I’m not too late, am I?”

“Only a few minutes, we’ve just sat down.”

“Good, good,” he toed off his shoes and put them in the shoe organizer just so. “It smells real good in here. What’s on the stove?”

“Pasta e fagioli. Come on, we’ve got a place all set for you.” I turned back toward the table, and he followed me. “Dad, Uncle Ray’s here!”

“Hey Benny, Kowalski,” he waved as he approached the only empty chair at the table, across from Tim. Just before he sat down, he stopped and nodded at him. “Ray Vecchio. Call me Vecchio”

Tim stood halfway up and extended a hand across the table. “Tim Bayliss. You can call me Bayliss.” I’m sure he’d had enough of meeting and greeting everyone that came through the door, but he didn’t let it show. Once Uncle Ray sat down across from Tim, we were able to tuck into the bruschetta.

It really was delicious, and Uncle Ray was more than cordial toward Tim the whole time. My nerves started to dissipate, and I began to relax a little bit. I got up to clear the table in order to bring out bowls for the pasta, but Ray shook his head and got up instead.

“It’s nearly done on the stove. I’ll get it. You entertain everyone left here.”

I laughed out loud. “Yeah, okay. Did you hear the one about what happened to the man who ate too much spaghetti?” It was a terrible joke, but that was the joke in itself. Tim was looking at me with raised eyebrows in amused anticipation. “He pasta way.”

Tim chuckled, but Dad and Ray didn’t. That’s when I noticed a tense look between them.

“I know that was absolutely terrible, but come on, it deserves at least a chuckle.”

Dad looked at me blankly.

“At least a smile?”

Uncle Ray let out an amused ‘ha’.

I felt my cheeks grow hot, and I pushed my chair back away from the table. “I’m going to go see if Ray needs any help in the kitchen.” I got up and edged my way to the kitchen, wishing a hole would open in the floor and swallow me.

I appeared in the kitchen, shaking my head ruefully.

“What’s wrong, sweetie?”

“I think I just embarrassed myself.”

Ray chuckled as he bent to remove the baking dish from the oven. “Oh Abby, you wouldn’t be in love if you didn’t embarrass yourself.”

I felt my cheek flush even more. “You can tell?”

“Yeah, I can tell,” he nodded and removed the lid from the soup pot, allowing the fragrant steam from the vegetables and tomato broth to escape and permeate the air in the room. “It could have been worse. You could have pissed yourself in front of him in a bank.”

I stared at him. “There’s a story there, isn’t there?”

“Yes, sweetie, there is,” he chuckled.

“Can I hear the story?” I figured if he told me, it would give me enough time to organize my thoughts and calm down. I held my arms out for a hug, and Ray obliged.

“Oh God, alright. Anything for you,” he whispered as I buried my face in my step dad’s shoulder. “I don’t share this with just anyone...”

ooOoo

I waited until Abby was in the kitchen and turned my attention to her dad and uncle. There was something going on, and the most logical conclusion was that it had something to do with me. I hadn’t expected her dad to be my age; perhaps he hadn’t expected it either.

“Can I be frank with you?”

“Yes?” Abby’s dad leaned forward, an attentive expression on his face.

“I understand that this is awkward,” I continued, and now I had her uncle’s attention as well. “But please know that I would never do anything to hurt Abby or cause her distress.”

The two of them looked at me like I’d just grown a second head. A look of bewilderment crossed both their faces, and that’s when I realized that they hadn’t been thinking of that at all.

“Unless I’m completely wrong and you were thinking of something else entirely.”

Abby’s dad cleared his throat. “It is something else entirely.” I saw a look pass between the two of them. “I know you and Abby have been writing to each other, and now I know that you’re a detective and a trained investigator.”

“Uh huh…” I paused. “What does that have to do with this ‘something else entirely?’”

“While it’s none of my business what you two wrote to each other, I hope you won’t mind me asking whether Abby has told you about Charles Carver.”

“Carver…” I tried the name out on my tongue, hoping it would jog my memory. “Carver…” I paused again.

Vecchio gave a grim laugh. “Believe me, you’d know if she told you.”

“Then no, she didn’t.”

Abby’s dad leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. Vecchio put his forearms on the table and leaned forward. They were clearly reigning in strong emotions, and letting me in on some kind of family secret.

I cleared my throat. “If this is a family secret, shouldn’t Abby be the one to tell me this?”

“Under normal circumstances, I’d agree, but as far as Ray and I are concerned, Carver is an immediate threat.”

The hair on the back of my neck stood on end. Who was this Charles Carver, and why was he a threat to Abby? What had happened that had her dad and uncle so anxious?

“An immediate threat how?”

“Let’s put it this way,” Vecchio chimed in. “I should have shot him on sight.”

The look of malice on Vecchio’s face was astounding. I was even more unnerved to turn my head and see that her dad had the exact same expression. No police officer I knew relished the sometimes necessary task of having to draw and fire their weapon. If Vecchio was expressing regret at having not shot this Charles Carver person… the only thing I could think of was that he’d hurt my Abby. What the hell had the man done?

“Tell me?”

Both of them noticed the change in my voice. Frank called it my ‘investigator voice’, especially if it crept out while I was at the house visiting him, Mary, and the kids. He didn’t want Livvy to be alarmed, so he’d put it into terms that the toddler could understand.

“Long story short, he was an ex-collar of mine, but I couldn’t hold him for long,” Vecchio started. “Once he got out, he started stalking me, and my friends and family. Next thing, he’d kidnapped Abby.”

My stomach dropped into my feet. “Jesus Christ on a bike, he didn’t rape her, did he?”

“No,” Abby’s dad was curt. “She was lucky. The only reason he didn’t was because her period started.”

Good God. Now it made sense as to why Vecchio wanted to shoot him. I’d have shot him myself.

“And you’re telling me this because Carver’s been granted parole.”

“You’re absolutely correct,” Abby’s dad nodded. “It should not have happened. He’d initially been sentenced to life without parole and he did not initially file an appeal.”

How was this possible? If what he was saying actually happened, there’d be no way that Carver would have been allowed out. Someone fucked up.

“As I said before, I would not have told you this without Abby in the room if I didn’t think there was an immediate threat to her safety.”

“Does she know?” I swallowed, my throat dry.

“Not yet, we don’t know how to break it to her,” Vecchio spoke this time.

“Are you saying you want me to do it?”

“No, that’s not fair to either of you,” her dad answered. “The whole reason that you’re here, and I know this, is because this is the start of your relationship. You two don’t need these kinds of complications yet.”

“If this Carver is as dangerous as he sounds, then it’s already complicated. You sound like you want my help, and I’m glad to give it.”

Both her dad and Vecchio breathed a sigh of relief. “I know you didn’t ask for this, Tim, since you’re on vacation.”

“We’ll all of us sit down after dinner and talk this through,” I suggested. “Abby would need to know. It won’t help anything to keep it from her. She may actually have an idea of how to catch this dick.”

Just as we finish speaking, Abby and Ray come out of the kitchen bearing pasta and the covered dish I’d seen her take in there when Vecchio had arrived.

ooOoo

“What’s the matter?” I asked upon seeing the looks on everyone’s faces. Tim looked like he’d been punched in the stomach, and both Dad and Uncle Ray were pale as ghosts. Oh no, please. I hoped they hadn’t had a go at Tim.

But they can’t have done, I would have heard something. Uncle Ray was anything but quiet in an argument, and Dad never raised his voice. Tim forced himself to smile as Ray and I sat back down.

“Tim? What happened?”

He shook his head and blinked.

“We’ve all got to have a talk after dinner,” Dad interjected as Ray dished out the pasta fagioli and stuck a serving spoon into the rapini that Uncle Ray had brought. Judging from the combination of garlic, pine nuts, and onion, it was one of Mrs. Vecchio’s recipes. I still couldn’t call her anything other than Mrs. Vecchio to anyone but her. Like I said to Tim, when I was with her, I called her Nonna, because she wouldn’t respond to my calling her anything but Nonna. Dad still called her Mrs. Vecchio, despite her repeated attempts to get him to call her Ma.

“What about?” My eyes darted between Dad, Uncle Ray, and Tim. I dropped the serving spoon. “Oh shit. Who died?”

“No one died, baby girl,” Dad insisted. And with that, I knew something was terribly wrong. Dad hadn’t addressed me using that nickname in front of other people in years. “But it’s terribly important.”

It was my turn to blink as I passed a side dish of rapini to Tim, who continued to pass it around until everyone had gotten their own dinner. “What’s this terribly important thing? Honestly, coming back in here, the air is suddenly so thick you could cut it with a knife.”

Uncle Ray made a point of sticking his spoon into his soup bowl and taking the first bite, stealing glances at Dad and Tim.

“I hate when you get like this,” I told Dad, but looking to Ray, who simply shrugged. He couldn’t make sense of it either. Or maybe he could, and he just wasn’t saying anything. “Come on, we might as well get it over with. What’s happened?”

Dad put down his knife and fork and sat straight back in his chair. His eyes had taken on the ‘Mountie Mask’ quality, and that was when I realized how disheveled he was. How could I have missed it? His tie was loose, his sleeves rolled up around his elbows, and he just looked tired, as though he hadn’t slept at all the night before. Of course! I’d been so focused on Tim’s visit and Dad’s reaction to meeting him that I simply hadn’t noticed.

“Abigail…” he started.

He didn’t need to say anything else. Jesus Murphy! If this was what I thought it was, I knew it had to be a lie. How could this be? My eyes bugged out of my head, and I choked on air.

“It’s Carver, isn’t it? He’s out on parole.”

ooOoo

All the colour had drained from Abby’s face, and I felt my stomach drop into my feet again. I shouldn’t have been surprised that she’d put the pieces together as quickly as she did. After all, Abby had spent her life around police officers and detectives. Even if this Carver hadn’t been out of prison for very long, I suddenly understood that there was no way her dad, stepdad, and uncle would have been able to keep it from her for very more than a few days.

“How?” her voice had taken on a begging quality. “He was given a life sentence with no chance of parole. We were all there in the courtroom when he was sentenced! Well, everyone except you, Tim, and Ray,” she continued. “It was right there, straight from the horse’s mouth. I remember the judge’s exact words. He said point blank that Carver was to spend the rest of his life in prison, no chance of parole. Helen was there too!”

“I know,” Vecchio tells her as Abby reaches under the table and grabs my hand. “None of us are happy about it. They insisted that they called you and sent a letter to tell both you and Helen that Carver had filed an appeal.”

“What letter? What phone call?” the way she was squeezing my hand under the table told me that she was starting to panic. “I never got a letter or a phone call! And if I didn’t get those, I can guarantee you Helen didn’t either, especially since she moved out of state.” I didn’t know who Helen was and why she was important, but the way Abby was talking about her made me think that she was connected in a big way to the case at hand. “And it was worse for her! She dated the son of a bitch! He almost beat her to death with a metal pipe, and she took that beating for me!”

I felt my jaw tighten and my shoulders bunch up. In response to my fists tightening, Abby released my hand as though she’d been struck by lightning. She turned away and hid her face in her hands. “Oh God, I feel sick…” she swallowed thickly, got up from the table and went to the living room to grab a tissue and blow her nose. That done, she stayed away for a few minutes to compose herself and come back to the table. Sliding back into her chair, she grabbed my hand again. “How could this have happened?”

“Someone fucked up,” Vecchio bit out, echoing my earlier thoughts. “And you know as well as I do how persuasive Carver is,” he spoke as calmly as he could. “He’s got them fooled. But your Dad and I… we’ve been looking for anything we can find to bring him down.”

“What if it’s not enough?” she kept her eyes locked with mine, even though she was addressing Vecchio. Her dad and Ray were silent, obviously believing that that was the best course of action at this point. “This isn’t fair. Everyone swore that once Carver was behind bars, that that was the end of it.”

“I know, baby girl,” her dad… Ben. I did suppose I could silently refer to him as Ben or Benton, while continuing to address him as ‘sir’ out loud until he gave me permission to do otherwise. “But in order for us to catch him, we need your help.”

“Us?”

“All of us,” Ray chimed in.

“You knew too?”

“Your dad and I don’t keep secrets from each other,” Ray answered. “You think I’m not going to ask my husband why he’s not sleeping?”

Abby is suddenly, remarkably, calm, although her grip on my hand has turned vice-like.

“You don’t keep secrets from each other, but you keep them from me? How could you not tell me a secret this big?”

“I know. I’m sorry, sweetie. We all are. We just…”

“We didn’t know how to tell you.”

“I’m sorry, baby girl.”

“Don’t!” she steeled her voice. Clearly, they’d chosen the wrong time to use nicknames, even though she’d regained her composure the best she could. “What do you want me to do?”

“If he tries to do what he did the first time, before I met you,” Vecchio has started. “He’ll try to call you. The only problem is, I don’t how which phone line he’ll use. I know you have the main one, and the one in your room, but that one’s for work.”

“Phone lines, phone lines…” Abby repeated to herself, and she released my hand again. “He wouldn’t know which is which, and I have to record all my business calls. Depending on which one he calls, I’d simply have to answer and get him to say something.”

“It isn’t that easy, Abby,” I interjected, truly impressed that she wanted to add in her own ideas. Part of my job was meeting people on the worst day of their lives, and oftentimes, those who had had similar experiences to Abby were too scared to come forward. She’d already done more than that. “Even if he did call and we recorded the conversation, he could claim that we tried to trap him.”

“Not necessarily. We’re not tricking him into calling. He can’t claim entrapment if he calls of his own accord,” Ben corrected me.

Even with that reassurance, I could see Abby was a bit frantic. “So I’m supposed to wait until he tries to grab me again?”

“No, I like Vecchio’s idea of recording him, but we need to have a few other measures in place. We need an official trap on the line, we need to tell whoever was in charge of the investigation that we intend to do it…”

“Uncle Ray was in charge last time.”

I turned to stare at Vecchio. “You were?”

“Yep,” he answered. “Which is why my Lieutenant wants me on him again. We’ve been monitoring his every move. He hasn’t done anything to breach his parole conditions yet, but the bastard is arrogant enough to think he’s the smartest person in the room. It’s all about outsmarting him.”

“Can we not talk about this any more right now?” Abby’s interrupted, her voice going an octave higher than usual. “All I wanted to do tonight was have dinner with the people who mean the most to me. We can figure out what to do about that douche canoe later.”

I blinked, trying to take in what she’d said as Ben set his jaw. “Douche canoe, Abigail?”

“Dad, you of all people should know by now that it’s one of my favourite insults, and even then that’s too good for Carver.” She was trying to inject a little levity into the conversation. “Now, this is Nonna’s pasta e fagioli recipe. I’d hate to tell her it would be going to waste.”

I had no idea what Vecchio’s mother looked like, but I suddenly had a vision of her continually asking Abby to taste the pasta while it cooked, and then making her feel guilty for being too full to clean her plate later.

Feeling thoroughly chastised, all of us picked up our spoons and began to eat, albeit slightly more subdued. The conversation turned back to how long I was going to be in Chicago, what I did for a living, and how we had met. Overall, a very pleasant meal. Or it would have been, if not for the unspoken tension rising between us. They’d all gone out of their way for me, even though they’d never met me before and had no reason to trust me, other than Abby’s good report.

As dinner wound down, I could see that Abby was getting a little tense again. I wanted to reach over and hug her close, but I didn’t know how it would go over in front of everyone. Plus, I really didn’t want to be going back to my hotel; not with this hanging over her head.

“So here’s what I was thinking,” Ray started as he and Abby collected our plates. “We should probably all hunker down here for the night.”

Vecchio looked at him like he’d grown three heads. “What?”

“Yeah, it’ll be cramped, but it’s better than all of us splitting up and being vulnerable.”

“What do you mean?” I asked. Since I didn’t have all the background on the case, whatever anyone could tell me would help. “Not that it’s not a good idea for all of us to stay here tonight, I think it’s a great idea, but…”

“Charles Carver is a very smart, smug bastard,” Vecchio answered as Abby squeezed my shoulder and Ben went into the kitchen, presumably to give us some privacy and help Ray with the dishes. Maybe to have a few words in private themselves.

“Help me set out the dessert plates?” Abby bent over my shoulder and whispered in my ear. I nodded and stood up, Vecchio following my lead.

“He got hired at my school as a janitor, and no one noticed him for weeks,” Abby continued as she handed me the cutlery and Ray set up the coffee cups. We moved in tandem, following each other around the table until we’d set everything up for dessert. “Before that, he tried following me home from school. He spooked me so much I ran into the convenience store until Dad and Uncle Ray could come pick me up.”

I wanted to pull her to me and kiss her, if only to make that memory disappear.

“I’m sorry, Abby.” It’s the only thing I could think to say, even though it was not apology. It’s compassion and regret for what she experienced.

Abby smiled; she understood. She crooked her finger at me, beckoning me close. I knew what that gesture meant.

Smiling back at her myself, I leant into her kiss. When I came out of it, Vecchio was leaning back in his chair, staring upward.

“My, what a lovely ceiling we have tonight.”

Abby and I stared at him for a moment, then burst out laughing.

ooOoo

I heard laughter coming from around the table, which I found strange, partially due to the fact that Ben and I had come into the kitchen just after Abby had told us all off for keeping secrets. And she had every right to do that. Looking back, it was incredibly wrong of us to keep the truth about Carver from her. She was, after all, the one he had gone after.

While all of that was unusual, what was even more unusual was the fact that Abby and Tim were laughing.

“That sounds better, don’t you think, Ray?” Ben stuck his hands into the soapy water and continued washing the last plate before moving onto the inside of the slow cooker and the baking sheet that had had the bruschetta on it.

“Better how?”

“Do you hear that?” Ben cocked his head toward the dining table, just outside the kitchen doorway. “There’s laughter.”

“Yeah. Now that I think about it, I haven’t heard Abby laugh like that for at least four months,” I nudged him lightly. “And Tim's not a dick like I thought he'd be. He’s certainly much better than the last guy she brought home. Not that I met the guy, whatever his name was, but judging from what happened afterward, Tim’s a much better choice.”

“That isn’t what concerns me, Ray.” Ben was paying very close attention to the plate he has in his hand, as though it held answers to questions only he knew about.

“No?” I reached into the sink and gently coaxed his hands out of the water. I made him show me his palms as I grabbed the dish towel off my shoulder and dried them. “What are you worried about?”

“I knew this would happen. That one day, a man just like Tim would come through the front door and I’d know for certain that he had my daughter’s heart.”

Oh. That’s what’s wrong. He’s seeing what I’m seeing. That Abby has indeed fallen in love, and, as any father would, he wants to be sure that she’s making the right choice for herself. Not just that, but I can see that he’s also worried about this whole thing with Carver.

“Listen,” I took his hands in mine and massaged. “You did good.”

I saw his shoulders visibly relax as I continued massaging his hands. “Remember how you told me that you set up camp outside June’s house because you wouldn’t leave her while she was pregnant with Abby?”

Ben nodded, but he still didn’t say anything.

“You did everything right and then some,” I could see he needed me to say that. “But you’ve done your duty. Abby is grown up now, and she’s making her own way, her own choices…” Wow, when did I get to be the voice of reason? “And judging from the fact that she brought Tim home to meet us, she’s making very good choices.”

Ben breathed a sigh of relief and gathered me to him.

We held each other for a long time, swaying together in front of the sink, dishes and dessert temporarily forgotten.

ooOoo

After dessert was served, eaten, and cleared away, all of us were tired from the proverbial roller coaster of emotions and a delicious meal.

“Please stay?” I asked Tim as he went to the closet. I thought he was going to grab his coat and head back to the hotel and I wouldn’t see him again until the morning, but then I realized that he hadn’t visibly brought anything else with him.

He smiled at me and pulled a travel toothbrush out of his jacket pocket. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Oh, you came prepared,” I couldn’t help but smile back. “Fancy your chances tonight, do you?”

“I can hope.”

I went up on my toes and kissed him soundly. “Sleep in my room tonight.”

I’d nearly forgotten how gorgeous he was when he blushed. “Sounds good to me.” He kissed me back.

“Hey lovebirds, keep it down.” We jumped apart, startled. Ray was shaking his head ruefully as he peered out his bedroom door. “Some of us are trying to sleep.” He pointed to Uncle Ray who had fallen asleep sitting up, his head tilted back toward the ceiling, lightly snoring. Dad would say he was in Fowler’s position, but Dad always did use technical language when plain English would do. “Case in point.”

“Sorry. Good night Ray.” I whispered as Ray gave us the thumbs up and closed his bedroom door once again.

Tim and I smirked and made our way to my bedroom. At first, we were too wound up to do anything other than try to get some sleep. Even climbing into bed was laborious, despite the fact that neither of us bothered with our pajamas once we’d brushed our teeth.

I smiled to myself as Tim and I fell asleep together, relishing the fact that he was here, in Chicago. I hadn’t been imagining things.

I couldn’t help myself. I rolled over on top of him and kissed him thoroughly. It wasn’t difficult for him to understand what I wanted that night, and he obliged, the only condition being that we had to be quiet.

We managed alright.

ooOoo

Waking up the next morning, I turned my hand and saw that I was indeed lying next to Abigail Fraser, her hair spread out on the pillow behind her. I couldn’t help but think about how lucky I was. What had I done to deserve a woman like Abby?

She sat up in bed and stretched, groaning as she worked out the knots from sleeping in the same position all night.

“Good morning starshine,” she greeted me, same as she had that first night in her hotel room.

I blinked and sat up, brushing my bangs out of my face. “The Earth says hello.” I didn’t see an alarm clock in Abby’s room, though I guess that was intentional. If she didn’t have to be up for work, she’d get as much sleep as she could, and that probably meant not setting an alarm. “What time is it?”

Abby got out of bed and walked to the window, pulling back the curtain just enough to peek outside. “Looking at the light outside, around quarter to six, I think.”

“What are we doing up so early?” I whispered, smoothing out her duvet cover. I hadn’t realized it was a dark green colour. “Come on back to bed?”

“In a minute, I just want a few minutes to enjoy the quiet,” she said as she pointedly made her way back to bed, and somehow managed to step over the clothes that had quickly come off in our haste last night. She crawled back up and under the blanket, and I was stunned at how well the duvet cover complimented her skin tone. I know that’s an odd thing to notice, but with everyone in the apartment on heightened alert, I wanted to be sure that I was taking in every detail I could, since we simply didn’t know what Carver was planning.

No. After the night we’d shared, Abby wouldn’t thank me to mention Carver. In fact, I still wasn’t sure she wanted to tell me what had happened at all, and I wouldn’t blame her for not wanting to tell me.

“Tim? You alright?” I felt her hand on my arm.

“Hmm?” I asked, blinking. “Sorry, lost in my own thoughts.”

“That’s my line.”

“And now it’s mine,” I smirked. “Why were you looking out the window?” I had an idea, but thought it better to ask instead of assuming. Maybe she’d had a bad dream…

“I thought I heard something…”

Maybe it was some sort of premonition. Just as she finished speaking, the phone started ringing.

ooOoo

My heart jumped into my throat. There was no way that any sane person would be calling at quarter to six in the morning. If this was what I thought it was, then we didn’t have a lot of time.

I raced to the closet and pulled out two housecoats. I hastily got into one and tossed the other to Tim.

“If this is who I think it is, everyone in the apartment is going to wake up and race in here. No one else needs to see us naked.”

Tim pulled on the housecoat and tied it closed around his waist. He stood up, pulled on his pants as quickly as possible, and put his hand on the doorknob just as I leaned over to check if it really was from work and I was just imagining things, having talked about it at length the night before.

Nope, number withheld. I had everyone’s phone number from work. There was no way this phone call was from anyone but Carver. Dad and Uncle Ray had prepared for this, though. Just before we’d gone to bed, Uncle Ray had said that they’d put Lieutenant Welsh on alert, and that, the minute that Carver called me, Dad would be on the other line to Welsh, who would then instruct the stake out team to go up the stairs and arrest Carver. We all agreed though that it would be best to keep him talking just long enough to establish that his motive was to harass and intimidate. He was good at manipulating things, if we weren't careful he might say that he had just been trying to apologize.

I nodded at Tim, who opened the door only to come face to face with Dad, Ray, and Uncle Ray on the other side, Dief trying to wriggle his way through the tangle of limbs that were crowding my bedroom doorway. The sheer number of people in the room combined with the precautions that Dad and Uncle Ray had taken really helped me in feeling reassured.

I immediately put my finger to my lips to silence everyone as the phone continued ringing. There was no way Carver was going to give up, even if I let his first call go to the answering machine.

I bit my lip, hard, and looked at each man now crowded around my bed and phone. They were too focused on the ringing phone and my finger poised on the ‘record’ button to notice that the room smelled strongly of sex, and I hadn’t had the chance to open the window to let fresh air in.

Whatever. Tim and I were adults. What happened in my bedroom was a) none of their business and b) none of their concern. That wasn’t important at this juncture. Dief jumped up on the bed and put his paws across my lap. I depressed the red button and picked up the phone.

“Hello, Abigail Fraser speaking…”

“Well well, don’t you sound all grown up,” came the slimy voice down the phone. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end, same as it had all those years ago when he’d followed me home from school and I’d run into the convenience store to hide.

I swallowed. Looking at Tim, he nodded, and suddenly I realized the best way to keep Carver on the phone as long as possible was to play dumb.

“May I ask who’s calling?”

“Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten me, Abigail, I certainly haven’t forgotten about you…” he paused. “It’s been a very long time since we’ve had a chance to ‘talk’, wouldn’t you say?”

“Perhaps,” I shrugged my shoulders as I looked over at Uncle Ray. His jaw was clenched, arms crossed across his chest. “But I don’t know what you mean by talk. The last time you barely spoke to me.”

“Sure I did. Didn’t I say that I knew Detective Vecchio would come looking for you?”

“I don’t remember,” I insisted, reaching blindly out to the side. Luckily, Tim sat down beside me and Dief laid down across my legs.

“Then why don’t you tell me what you do remember?” Carver’s voice went thick, the way someone’s voice does when they are eating something rich, like yogurt or an eclair. “Because I’m sure Detective Vecchio didn’t get all the details, even during the trial.”

“Oh believe me, Charles,” I bit out. So much for playing dumb. “He heard absolutely everything. Including the bit with the metal pipe.”

“I never touched you with any sort of pipe.”

“Of course not, other than when you hit me on the back of the neck with it to subdue me. After that, you only tied me to a radiator and pulled my underwear off, because that’s so much better.” Ugh. I resisted the urge to throw up. The look on Tim’s face upon hearing that part was heartbreaking. “Why don’t you tell me what you were planning? Did I look appetizing to you?”

“I may be many things, Abigail, but a pedophile is not one of them,” his voice went thick again. Another bite of food, no doubt. “No, little girl, I grabbed you to make Detective Vecchio pay.”

Suddenly I remembered how he’d called me ‘little girl’ to try and frighten me the first time, when Helen and I had been bound, gagged and then tied up.

“So that wasn’t your penis I saw?” Uncle Ray knew this, and so did Dad. I’d told them he’d tried to touch me, but he didn’t get very far because my period had started. “Because if it wasn’t, I’d have to ask you what you’d been hiding.”

He had hoped to hear me panic, but I don’t think he’d expected me to be crass. I didn’t care. “Isn’t that why you beat Helen with the pipe? Because you couldn’t get hard? What a sad life you live, Charles.”

“That’s not very polite, Abigail,” he lowered his voice, and I heard him put something down on what I assumed was a table. “I’d have thought a Mountie’s daughter would have better manners when speaking to her elders.”

“To my Elders, yes, but you’re not one of them,” I shot back. I leaned forward, dislodging Dief (who jumped down and went under the bed), and Tim put his hand on my shoulder. “I haven’t thought about you in a very long time, Charles. But I’m sure you’ve thought about me every day for the past ten years.”

“Why would you think that, little girl?” he really thought that was going to work. I looked up briefly, and saw everyone smiling at me. Just a minute more and we’d have enough to charge him with breaking his parole conditions.Well, we had enough already, but I wanted to see how big a hole he’d dig for himself before I hung up.

“Because I. Put. You. Away.” I paused between each word to make sure he understood that I was no longer scared. At least, that was the front I was putting on. My stomach was doing flip flops. “Whatever you said to the parole board, I know you lied. I’m surprised they believed you.”

“You’ll come to find, Abigail, that I can be very persuasive.”

“Oh…” I nodded against the phone. “So you’re telling me that you’re just so smart, so likable, that I’d have to be three steps ahead of you just to catch you.”

“It wouldn’t be a bad idea.” Smug bastard. “Although I have to say I’m very impressed with you, Abigail.”

“You are, are you?” Ugh. I grimaced when I looked up to see Ray, Dad, and Uncle Ray were mouthing at me to hang up. Ray was even making a ‘cut off’ gesture across his throat. I shook my head back at him. I was so close here. I needed to hear him mention whether he’d been terrorizing Helen as well. All of this would be for nothing if Helen wasn’t safe by the end of it. And she needed not just to be safe, but to feel safe, to know that she had been vindicated, that there was no risk from Carver ever again. “Why do you say that?”

“You should have heard Helen just yesterday. Poor woman, she screamed so loudly I’m surprised my eardrums didn’t burst.”

Ha! Gotcha, you fucker. I knew for a fact that he’d told the parole board that he’d had and would have no contact with either Helen or myself —- it would have been, and I remember it being, a non-negotiable part of his bail. No contact with the victims. In calling both of us within a few days, and in confessing, he was screwed. Back to prison for him.

I chuckled. “You have no idea how happy I am to hear you say that.”

Silence. I looked up at Dad, who had been counting down the last few seconds. My last minute was up.

“‘Kneel before Zod', Charles Carver,” I quipped. Thank you Ray for introducing me to the cheesiness that was _Superman II_. “I’ve just caught you on tape breaking your parole conditions.”

I heard his apartment door open behind him and the stake out team telling him to step away from the phone and the computer. I switched the tape record off and hung up the phone.

I turned to look at Tim, and I fell into his arms. “They’ve got him, they’ve got him!” I sobbed. “Oh my God, they’ve got him!”

I heard the door close behind me. No doubt that everyone else had left the room to give Tim and me some privacy.

I sobbed into Tim’s chest, tears and snot going everywhere.

“You did it, Abby,” he whispered, rocking me. “You did it. He can’t hurt you again.”

I lifted my head and looked him in the eyes, pulling back to wipe my nose with my hand. “My nose is running like a faucet, I’m sorry.”

“It’s just snot,” he passed me a tissue and let me wipe my nose before he bent his head and kissed me. “Come on. I think the shower’s free.”

Lucky for me, it was. I had a feeling that with so many of us in the apartment that morning, none of us had time for anything longer than five or ten minutes under the hot water. Plus, once we were all presentable, we’d have to go into the precinct and talk to Lieutenant Welsh. He’d put the majority of the plan together along with Dad and Uncle Ray.

I was out of the shower and dressed in less than ten minutes, Tim grabbing his clothes and nearly sprinting to the bathroom once I’d finished. After I’d gotten dressed, I went back out to the kitchen where Uncle Ray was on the phone.

“Yes sir, we’ll be there around ten,” he said, giving me a thumbs up as I adjusted my top and walked into the kitchen, where Dad was waiting with a smile on his face.

Dad pulled me into a hug and kissed my hair. “I’m so proud of you.” He pulled back and reached for a mug and handed it to me. Coffee. Sweet, blessed beverage. What would I do without it? “As you heard Ray tell the Lieutenant, we’re all going in to give our statements around ten.”

“Sounds good to me. Although if this goes any further then I’ll have to let work know.”

“I’d been meaning to ask you about work, Abby,” Dad clearly took the opportunity. “Are you having problems at all? You haven’t seemed as happy, lately.”

I sighed. Why did he have to be so damned perceptive all the time?

“Not problems, exactly,” I shrugged, pausing to keep an ear out for Tim. “But you’re right, Dad. I’m not as happy as I was. Nothing seems to make sense anymore. Not in Chicago, anyway.”

He simply nodded and leaned back against the counter, arms crossed over his chest. “But things made sense when you were in Baltimore, didn’t they?”

“Everything made sense while I was there. The neighbourhood, the people, the food… I almost didn’t come back,” I admitted. “I’ve been thinking about it, and I want to ask work for a transfer.”

“Huh,” he answered, turning his head the same time I did. Tim had emerged from the bathroom, clearly having showered but not at all enthused about having to wear yesterday’s clothes again today. “How long have you been thinking about it?”

“Every day since I got back,” I turn and hold out my arm so that I can wrap it around Tim’s waist. “Especially after I dreamt of Mom.”

“You did?” Dad nodded slightly. Ever since we’d moved to Chicago, we’d had an agreement in place: Mom was not up for discussion unless both of us agreed to it. We’d relaxed it in recent years, but I could tell Dad was still a little wary. “What did she say?”

I smiled and pulled Tim a little closer. He’s silent, but I can tell by Dad’s facial expression that he noticed it.

“She gave me her blessing,” I turned my head and coughed into my arm. “I told Tim about her, and my dreaming about her, so it’s not news.”

“I see,” Dad made a point of staring at Tim, who reciprocated. Clearly they were waiting to see who blinked first. “If that’s the case, Abby, what do you plan to do? I’m assuming you’ve got a plan?”

“I’ve got a tentative plan. I’ve been doing research after work,” I nodded. “And I figured that, once everything is cleared up today, or as cleared up as it can be, we could sit down together and talk about it?”

“I’m assuming you knew about this?” Dad addresses Tim, who’s been quiet the entire exchange.

“This is the first I’ve heard of it.” He’s taking the news in remarkable stride, thank God. I hadn’t wanted to tell him about my thinking of moving quite like this, and even so. I hope he didn’t think I was being pushy. “But like Abby said, maybe we should hold off on talking about this until we’re back from the precinct?”

“Good idea.” Dad turned around and went to the cupboard. “We’ve all had a trying day already and it’s not even eight in the morning. Did you want coffee, Tim?”

“Coffee would be good, thanks. Can I help with anything?”

Dad turned back around, stunned.

“All of us need to eat, so perhaps you and Abby could start setting out a light breakfast.”

“Meaning cereal, toast, yogurt?” I asked for clarification.

“Exactly,” Dad grabbed the coffee pot and brought it over to the table. “Ray is just getting dressed now. We don’t have a lot of time before we have to go.”

Ah, now I understood. Routine was and always had been Dad’s way of sorting his thoughts and keeping big emotions in check. He wasn’t intending to be rude, he was simply trying to compartmentalize everything that had happened.

“Dad? I need to ask you something privately.” I flashed Tim a smile to reassure him. He was looking a little lost. “Be right back. I promise Ray doesn’t bite without provocation. Neither does Uncle Ray.”

Tim snorted, and Dad’s mouth went into a straight line.

“Ray,” I called out, addressing both of them. “Dad and I are going to sit in the car for a minute! Please be nice to Tim!” It wasn’t Tim I was worried about. I grabbed the keys out of the bowl by the front door.

Dad followed me out into the hallway and out to the parking lot. Once we were in the car, we stared at each other.

“So…” I took a deep breath. “What’s wrong?”

Dad looked at me like I had three heads. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Come on Dad, you and I are too smart for that kind of answer,” I turned in the driver’s seat and wait until he turned his face away. “What is it?”

“I think…” he took a breath. “I think I’ve just realized that I’m getting old.”

“Old?” I scoffed. “Thirty-eight is not old, Dad. It just feels that way because of how old I am.”

“Well you’re not in your thirties, baby girl,” Dad turned back to face me, and I saw that there were tears in his eyes. “I say I’m old because I know I’m about to lose you.”

“You’ll never lose me,” I insisted as he put his hand on my cheek. “If this transfer works out as I want it to, I wouldn’t be going very far. Just to Baltimore. It’s only ten hours in the car, an hour by plane.”

“Oh baby girl,” he ran his thumb across my cheekbone. “That’s not what I mean. I can see it in your eyes.”

“See what?” My voice shook. Oh God, I was as nervous as he was sad. “What do you see?”

Dad sighed. “I see my beautiful daughter in love with the man she brought home for me to meet,” he was struggling to keep his composure, just as I was. “I see a young woman wanting me to tell her that it’s okay to go, even if she’s scared.”

“I’m not scared, not really,” I bit down on my lip for a moment. “This is everything I’ve ever wanted. I’ve never been so sure of anything in my entire life.” It sounded melodramatic, but Dad didn’t call attention to it. “And I know I love Tim, Dad. I love him so much.”

“I know,” he nodded, his hand still on my cheek, thumb stroking my cheekbone. “It just means that I’m going to have to accept that I’m not the most important man in your life anymore.”

“You’re still my Dad, you always will be,” I insisted, reaching forward and putting my own hand on his cheek. “You never gave up on me. Not once. You’ve always supported me in anything I wanted to do. The boxing, the dancing... Hell, we came to Chicago because I asked you if we could move.”

He turned his head and kissed my palm. “I’ve taught you everything I can, baby girl. It’s your turn to fly.”

I gasped, and reached forward, wrapping my arms around him. God Almighty, how was he so wise?

I heard a knock on the window as I pulled away. Ray was holding a thermos of coffee and some toast in his hand. Clearly meant for Dad, as I’d be riding with Tim.

I kissed Dad’s cheek and got out of the driver’s seat.

“He needs you, Ray,” I told him as Uncle Ray walked with me to Tim’s car before getting into the Riviera.

“We’ll see you at the precinct, okay?”

“See you there, Abby,” Uncle Ray gave me a hug. “I’m so proud of you.” He glanced at Tim. “You can follow me to the precinct, alright? It’s not that far.”

“Yes sir,” Tim nodded at him and gave my shoulder a squeeze before going around to the driver’s side of his rental car.

I blinked back tears as I climbed into the passenger side. Relief and gratitude were surging through me, and I knew that as soon as the visit to the precinct was over, I’d either be directing Tim to drive back to the apartment so I could pack a bag for a few days or straight back to his hotel so that I could climb him like a tree.

“So is your Dad alright?” He asked as he followed right behind Uncle Ray.

“Yeah, he’s okay,” I nodded. “It’s funny, I thought he needed reassurance but it turns out that he wanted to give me his blessing.” I swallowed and looked out the window, watching the world go by. “But, I’m really sorry that I hadn’t mentioned the possibility of a transfer to Baltimore before tonight.”

He turned and gave me a smile. “It’s not the worst way to find out news like that, Abby. I’m more excited than anything else, even if we have this to focus on right now.”

“I know this is a lot to handle all at once, but, my God, Tim… I don’t know how you’re not running screaming in the other direction.”

As we pulled into the precinct parking lot, he put the car in park and touched my thigh.

“Why would I run screaming in the other direction?”

“Because who wants to be involved with someone who has this hanging over their head?” I felt myself start to shake. “I should have told you about Carver, but I honestly didn’t think I’d have to. At least not yet.”

“Hey, hey…” he leaned over and kissed my cheek. “It’s okay. Let’s get this statement out of the way, and then we’ll figure out what to do next.”

I took a deep breath and nodded, wondering whether or not he had his own ghosts that were still hanging over his shoulder. “Okay. Let’s go.”

We got out of the car and walked into the precinct, Tim’s guiding hand on my back.

ooOoo

Walking into the 27th precinct felt eerily similar to the first time I walked into the Homicide unit carrying a Banker’s box. This time, though, I was here simply as support. Or perhaps insight. Either way, I’d been in the room when the phone call had come through, I was involved now.

“Kowalski! Vecchio! My office!” A voice barked by way of greeting. Yep, my theory about station hierarchy in Chicago was correct. It was no different than in Baltimore: when one’s commander said ‘jump’, people jumped.

“Be right there, Lieutenant!” Vecchio called back. “So, it’s gonna be a tight fit in there. You okay to hang out on the couch until he actually asks you a question?”

“You mean until he actually wants to take my statement? Yes, Vecchio, I think I can handle sitting on a couch.”

“Don’t look so smug, that couch isn’t all that comfortable,” Vecchio narrowed his eyes at me.

I already knew that was had nothing to do with the couch. We were all on edge, and Vecchio was doing his best to keep his emotions in check, even if it meant verbally sparring with me. He waited at the door and ushered me inside, where Ben, Ray, and Abby were already waiting.

“And who’s this now?” I heard from behind the desk.

“Lieutenant Harding Welsh, meet…”

“Detective Tim Bayliss, Baltimore Homicide.” I cut in, pulling my badge from my pocket. It was so reflexive that I barely noticed I’d done it until my badge was in my hand.

“Homicide? What, Carver killed someone now?”

“What? No,” Abby leaned forward. “He only broke parole by calling both Helen and I, which is why I want the book thrown at him.”

“And I can see why you would, Abby, but it still doesn’t explain what a Homicide detective from Baltimore is doing in my station involved in one of my cases.”

“Are you always this friendly so early in the morning?” Abby’s voice took on a hard edge. “Detective Bayliss is here as my guest. He was in the room when Carver called me.”

“And what time did Carver call you? It was pretty early, wasn’t it?”

“Yes Lieutenant,” Ben jumped in, and I can tell that everyone in the room is on edge. No one had gotten much sleep, and it looked like it was taking everything they had in order to get through this part of the day. “It was just before six this morning. We’ve got the tape, which has already been tagged as evidence.”

“Right, right, okay,” he sat back in his chair for a moment. “So now we’ve got him on tape, and everyone already knows what he looks like, but for the sake of proper procedure and all that, are you willing to identify him in a line up, Abby?”

“If I have to,” she agreed as her shoulders slumped. “And then after that, I want nothing more to do with this. The only things I will come back for are for when he’s jailed again, and then I want to make sure Helen is safe. There’s no point to any of this if Helen isn’t safe once it’s all over.”

“Do you know where Helen is?”

“Yes, and so do you, Lieutenant,” she was clearly exasperated. “Like I said, once this is done, I hope never to lay eyes on this precinct unless absolutely necessary again.”

Ben put his hand on her knee in a calming gesture. “Am I to understand, Lieutenant, that Charles Carver is waiting to be identified in a line up as we speak?”

“He is.”

“Good, let’s get this done and then I never have to look at him again.” Abby stood up and made her way to the door. “Anyone else want to join me? If someone else isn’t there I’m liable to break the mirror and throttle the bastard.”

Considering I’d once pounded on the glass to the Box so hard that it shattered trying to rescue my cousin from an all- out interrogation courtesy of Frank Pembleton and Stanley Bolander, I would not put it past Abby to do the same. Everyone clamoured for the door, and, ten minutes later, all of us were standing on the other side of the one way mirror as said line up was being led in.

I looked over at Abby, who’d set her jaw; her eyes were on fire. Woe betide anyone who got in her way at this point.

“I see him,” she told us. “Can you have number four step forward and say ‘Why would you think that, little girl’?”

Uncle Ray pushed the intercom and repeated the instructions.

Suspect Number Four did as he was told, his lip curled in a sneer. Vecchio has been right; Carver loathed the fact that Abby had outsmarted him. I could see that everyone was confident in her identification, and once that was done, Welsh led us back into his office.

“Well that’s that,” Abby said as we all crammed back into the tiny room. “Either he goes back to jail or you sign him up for a lethal injection, but I don’t want to be in here for anything Charles Carver related ever again.” She turned to me and squeezed my hand. “I’ll meet you at the car, okay?”

“Abby…” I heard Ray speak for the first time since we all got to the station.

She held up her finger, signaling for him to be quiet. “No. You can all finish giving your statements, but I am going to go sit in the car until I calm down.”

Once she left, all of us gave our statements, but it was like the wind had been taken out of everyone’s sails. And both Vecchio and Kowalski still had to work their shift. At least Ben had the afternoon shift, or so I assumed. And since Abby had booked vacation days, we were free to do what we wanted.

“Lieutenant, I must apologize for earlier. None of us are at our best this morning,” Ben scratched behind his ear.

“I’ve heard much worse, Corporal,” he mumbled and got up. “Now, you, Vecchio and Kowalski, out of my office. There’s a mountain of paperwork that wants your attention. And you,” he was addressing me now. “Detective Bayliss, can I count on you to see Abby home safely? Carver’s done enough damage today. I don’t want to be getting a report about her wrapping a car around a tree because she’s so worked up she can’t see straight.”

I blinked. I doubted very much that Abby would be so reckless, which is why she had removed herself from the office itself. Granted, Welsh hadn’t exactly been gracious. “You can count on me, Lieutenant.”

“Excellent. Have a good day, all.”

I followed Vecchio, Ray, and Ben out into the bullpen, where we exchanged quiet, awkward looks before Ben and I headed back out to the parking lot and toward my car.

Sure enough, Abby was leaning against the passenger side door, watching the world go by. She turned around and shot me a look, then looked past me and rolled her eyes.

“Yes, Dad?” she walked toward him and stopped just past the car.

“Abby, I’m sorry about all this,” I heard him say.

She held up a hand. “Dad, I love you, but this is not a good time to be talking to me.” I could tell from her body language that she needed space to process her feelings about the situation, and she couldn’t do that with her Dad in the apartment. “I’m going with Tim back to his hotel. We’ll be back tomorrow night.”

She got in the car and pleaded with me to drive. We were silent as we had back to the hotel, and, once we’re back in my room, she rushed to the bathroom and retched.

ooOoo

I’d never thought it would happen like this. I’d wanted to introduce Tim to my family, and show him around Chicago. I’d planned so many different sights and activities for us. Now everything was ruined.

Okay, I was exaggerating. Everything was not completely ruined, but now there was an extra complication. I hadn’t planned on telling him about Carver just yet; I’d wanted to wait a little while longer. I thought I still had time. What if after I told him about how Helen fit into the case, he wanted nothing more to do with me?

I finally finished and stood still for a moment, just in case there was more waiting to come up.

Nope, and good thing too. I closed the lid and flushed just as Tim knocked on the door and held out a new toothbrush, his tube of toothpaste, and a small bottle of mouthwash.

“I called downstairs, said I’d forgotten my toothbrush.”

“Thank you, Tim, this is more than I deserve.” I managed to smile and went to open the bathroom door. I went to the sink and ran the water before applying toothpaste and sticking this new toothbrush in my mouth. I’d more than likely feel a million times better after I brushed my teeth, rinsed my mouth liberally with mouthwash, and had a shower.

“I’m going to take a shower,” I called after I finished with the mouthwash. “I’ll be quick!”

“There’s no rush, Abby…” Tim called back. “I was thinking of having a nap.”

“That’s a great idea. I’ll come join you once I’m done,” I stepped into the tub and pulled the curtain.

I emerged ten minutes later to see Tim sitting up in bed with a book, his glasses sliding down his nose. God, as awful as the morning had been, my libido didn’t seem to care. He was so sexy. Not that I would have kissed him at that point, especially since I knew that even with mouthwash, I probably still smelled a little sick.

He didn’t seem to mind as I climbed into the bed beside him and snuggled into him.

“It’s not, you know,” he murmured into my hair.

“What’s not?”

“A fresh toothbrush and mouthwash after being sick is not more than you deserve,” he insisted. “I’m sorry this happened to you.”

“I’m sorry you had to find out about Carver this way. I didn’t know how to tell you.” I turned face away for a moment, and bit down on my knuckles. “There’s never a good way to tell someone you love that you were kidnapped and assaulted at the age of twelve.”

“No there’s not,” he agreed as I turned back over and rested my forehead on his shoulder. I still couldn’t look him in the eyes, not yet. He didn’t push, just let silence fill the air in the room.

“I’m so sorry,” I said again. Why couldn’t I stop apologizing? “I would understand completely if you didn’t want anything more to do with me. There’s so much I didn’t tell you about me, and then you find out about Carver, and Helen, and…”

I kept going, and Tim didn’t try to interrupt. I told him all about how Helen had been kidnapped and held first, about how we ended up in the basement of Carver’s apartment building. Carver had tied me to the radiator after he’d knocked me out, while he’d simply stuck a gag in Helen’s mouth and tied her hands behind her back. When I’d regained consciousness, he’d come out of the shadows toward me with the pipe and started unfastening his pants. Helen had managed to get the gag out and screamed at him to leave me alone. That whatever he had planned to do to me, to do to her instead…

“He made me watch as he beat her with the pipe, and then once he’d beaten her unconscious, he threw the pipe to the side and stuck his hand up my skirt. That’s when I kicked at him, and then I felt blood running down my thigh. He jumped back in disgust and wiped the blood on my leg. The only thing that saved me was my period.” Oh God, I was really telling Tim everything. So much for secrets. “Then he started pacing around the basement and knocking things over because he couldn’t get hard, and when Dad and Uncle Ray burst in, I started shouting for them in Inuktitut. I knew if I did that, Dad could find me faster. Carver would have just thought I was spouting gibberish.” I sniffed. “Carver came at Dad with a knife, but then Uncle Ray grabbed him and hit him twice in the stomach and three times in the face. I’d never been so relieved to see someone fall backward and hit their head on the concrete floor.” I turned my face into his shoulder again and took a deep breath to steady myself. “I couldn’t sleep alone for weeks afterward. I slept in my Dad’s room with Dief on the bed and Dad on his bedroll on the floor. I still find it difficult to wear skirts. Dresses, fine. Not skirts.”

He just held me close, an arm around my shoulder, listening. When I finally ran out of words, he simply turned and kissed my temple.

“Can I tell you something Frank told me?” he whispered.

I nodded, and he took a deep breath.

“He told me that, despite the fact that this happened to you, no matter what you did or did not do, the sin is not your own,” he punctuated the last three words, making a point.

“It’s not?” I knew it wasn’t, but I needed the reassurance. Even though I was still fully clothed, I felt naked, vulnerable.

“It is not,” he insisted, putting a finger under my chin. “You are incredible, Abigail Fraser.” Despite the fact that I was sure I still smelled a bit pukey, he kissed me on the mouth. “Telling me took courage. I’m honoured that you trust me enough to tell me.”

I sniffed again, and felt tears welling. “I love you.” I repeated.

“I love you too,” he answered and kissed me again.

We laid there in silence together for a few moments, savouring the truth. I relaxed into him, and suddenly the clothes I’d chosen for the day were too restrictive. We’d gone straight from the precinct to the hotel, meaning I had nothing to wear for later.

Not that we hadn’t seen each other naked before, we certainly had, but for the afternoon and into the evening, I wanted that extra layer of protection, at least for now.

Tim seemed to understand. He threw back the blanket and got out of bed, walking to the drawer where he’d unpacked for the week. Rummaging through his clothes, he pulled out an oversized t-shirt that read “Waterfront Bar.”

I smiled, and quickly pulled my shirt, bra, and jeans off, standing nearly naked in front of him.

He got on his knees, and kissed me just under my belly button. Goosebumps erupted all over my body as he pulled back and gave me space to pull his t-shirt over my head.

“Do you want to get back in bed?” he whispered, as though a spell had been cast over the room.

“Yes,” I answered. “Can we stay here the rest of the day? I know this hotel has room service if we get hungry.”

Tim nodded, stood back up and carried me bridal style back to the bed. Once I was comfortable under the blankets, he slid in behind me, wrapping his arms around my torso and coming to rest under my breasts, big spoon to little spoon.

“This okay?” I heard him murmur as we settled down together.

“This is perfect,” I felt the tension melt out of my body. “Can we stay like this?”

“As long as you like, Abby,” Tim kissed the back of my neck and my shoulder before lying back on the pillow.

“Okay…” I savoured the incredible feeling of lying in bed with Tim Bayliss, any ghosts that may have followed us throughout the morning thoroughly banished.

It wasn’t very long until we were both asleep, holding each other close.


End file.
